Friends will be friends
by allikka
Summary: "Akkarin - Lorlen friendship revisited, but from a slightly twisted perspective ;p An old friend appears on the horizon, which might destroy the bond between the two magicians..." - This summary is obviously outdated, it will never reach that point...
1. Prologue, part 1

**This story is inspired by a short mention in 'The Novice' of Lorlen's pre-Guild life. And by the fact that I just can't accept how Lorlen was treated by his "friend", Akkarin. All time I got the impression that their relation was superficial, and not a real friendship. So, I decided to equip Lorlen with some other friends. Let's see what happens then...**

**The story will be divided into a few parts, the first - Prologue - is set in the pre-Guild times. There is very little in the books about Lorlen's family, we don't even know which House he belongs to. The only sure thing is he knows (and is related to) Captain Baran's family and that he doesn't visit his relatives like the other magicians do. So this part fills in on this missing info... Enjoy.**

**PS. Unfortunately, English is not my first language, so there's probably some grammar and style errors. If you notice anything really bad (or if you'd like to beta-read), please let me know ;) Reviews are highly welcome! **

He woke up with a strange premonition that something important was going to happen that day. He wasn't sure if it was to be good or bad but it anyway made him feel inexplicably excited. Or maybe it was just some vague and intangible dream memory? He concentrated for a while trying to remember what he was dreaming about that night, but he couldn't recall anything. He winced and gave up - whatever was bound to happen would happen anyway - he thought as philosophically as his 13-year old life experience allowed. He stretched like a cat, yawning and wondering if he should get up already or maybe it was worth lying in bed for some time still. It was Freeday and it gave a whole new quality to the usual morning activities. Somehow they seemed to be stretching in time in a nice, lazy manner. Then, suddenly, the memories of last evening struck him. Aunt Laria! She arrived yesterday and was to stay for a whole week.

_'Damn!' _he thought. This was going to be disastrous. A whole week of being a 'nice boy' as his mother has put it. No way, he had to find some clever excuse to spend as little time home as possible. Aunt Laria couldn't possibly be this important thing that was to happen to him, right?

A shout has cut into his rather bitter thoughts.

'Elia! You should be up already! Breakfast is on the table!' His oldest brother, Perryl, was trying to be important again - by putting his siblings to order. A perfect occasion for that with the auntie around. A fact not to be forgotten, he marked. For him it could mean a chance to get some revenge for the latest inventions of his beloved brother. Like morning exercises for example. Recently, Perryl has taken to thinking that he was responsible for the proper development of his younger bros and sis. Crazy idea. Some clever prank that could embarrass him in front of aunt Laria would be a nice pay off. It might bring him back to earth from the pedestal of his newly acquired importance. Since his 19th birthday - that passed a month ago - Perryl has been officially let into the business matters of the family, each day accompanying their father in his activities. And has turned from annoying to unbearable.

'It's only 9...' he heard the sleepy voice of Elia, his younger sister. 'It's not fair; we shouldn't be getting up this early on Freedays...' She was perfectly right, he sighed. Stretching again, he started to get up as he heard his brother's footsteps getting closer to his own bedroom.

'I'm coming!' he shouted in anticipation of being dragged out of bed. With him Perryl wouldn't be as delicate as with Elia.

'You'd better be quick' came the reply. 'Mother and aunt Laria are already in the dining room. You might try and make a good impression for a change'.

He couldn't help cringing at the sarcasm in Perryl's voice. Yesterday, he's already ruined his mother's vision of showing off her children as extremely polite and well-behaved. He came home late from a visit to his best friend Walin ('Mum, we really need to learn a lot before the summer term exams!') that in fact has turned into a pleasant act of loitering around the most obscure parts of the Inner City. Of course, he blissfully forgot that Laria was arriving that day. It was already dark when he tried to sneak in through the kitchen door, hoping that the only person he'd meet on the way to his bedroom would be the kitchen maid, Marika. He couldn't be more wrong. He hasn't noticed Marika's favourite - the kitchen cat, Balto. The bastard slipped into the kitchen with him - straight into aunt Laria's canary that had been let loose for his evening 'wings stretching' - as auntie called it. Balto was probably waiting all evening long by the kitchen door; listening to the tasty wing flapping and waiting for a chance to get his yellow dessert. Well, he's got his chance. The sight of a cat and a canary together in a closed space that happened to be filled with all kinds of pots, pans, cutlery, jars, cups and so forth was really entertaining. But it probably wasn't worth the hell that ensued. Although it was funny in a way too, he had to admit. Aunt Laria shouting in a squeaky voice, jumping around the furniture trying to catch the horrified canary; Marika running with a pan, aiming to tame Balto's appetite; and his mother and brothers trying to save some of the more fragile kitchenware. Unfortunately, all this entertainment ended for him in a severe scolding and a ban on evening visits to Walin. Today he would have to face the aftermath of yesterdays cat-canary battle. And right from the early morning, he remarked sourly while brushing his teeth.

--

The breakfast has passed unexpectedly calm. He simply tried to be invisible. His mother and aunt had so much to talk about after a long period of not seeing each other that it proved to be a rather easy task. Afterwards, when the women moved into the terrace for a cup of sumi, he excused himself as politely as he could and backed out. He reached the stairs intending to close himself in his room and inspect his findings from yesterday's trip. With all the evening mess he didn't have any chance to take a closer look at the knife they found with Walin in one of the dead-end streets close to the Western Gate. Walin refused to take and hide it because he feared it would be too easily found by his parent's rather nosy servant. Of course, his own parents did not allow him to keep or wear any weapons either, but he hoped that in his messy room it would be easier to hide. And if found, he could always pretend that such an old and rusty knife is absolutely harmless, even in the hands of a 13-year old. In fact, he planned to clean and polish it nicely so that he could wear it just like Finnel, his father's brother, currently a major in the City Guard.

He jumped a few stairs up considering where he should hide with his treasure to start this tedious but promising job when he heard the back door being open. He cast a quick look back and his heart jumped with hope and excitement. He saw Makan, the butler, talking to a person he recognized as the errand-boy of Walin's family. He stepped back down slowly, trying to overhear what they were talking about but as he reached the floor, Makan turned away from the door and headed for the terrace.

He hesitated for a moment but just as he was inventing a clever excuse to interrupt the ladies, Makan came back along with his mother.

'Lorlen, Velia is planning to go with family to the Guard parade and the accompanying fair this morning. She has invited you to accompany her and Walin' she said. 'Although I don't think you deserve to go, I don't want to spend the whole day watching over you. You may go with them if you wish, but I don't want to hear a single word of complaint from Velia afterwards. Be careful to keep close to her at all times.'

He put on an innocent look as she regarded him sternly. Not that he thought she would be taken in by it, but he was afraid she would change her mind at the last moment. 'Makan will accompany you to Velia's. Be sure to be back before dinner.'

'Of course, mum' he replied politely, his eyes glowing. When she turned away, he rushed up to his bedroom to gather a few things and get ready. The Guard parade! How could he forget about it?! All this chaos with Laria has put him off guard. He owned Walin a huge favour for this. He knew well it wasn't Velia's idea to invite him. He also knew well that Walin had probably intended for them to get out of her custody. It shouldn't pose a big problem with her general, good-natured absentmindness - as it never did previously. This still could prove to be a very exciting Freeday.

He looked around his room wondering what to take with him. He quickly rammed a piece of string, a few coins and a handmade sling-shot into his pockets. He hesitated for a short while when his gaze fell on a tightly wrapped bundle lying in the corner, near his bed. He considered if it was wise to take the knife with him. Then he picked it up and attached it with another piece of string to the inner pocket of his jacket. Better not leave it here where it could be easily found out in his absence. He hastily scanned the room again and rushed out, still in fear that if he didn't make it quickly out of the house his mother would change her mind. Turning towards the stairs he almost crashed with a mass of pastel blue dress, dark blond hair and pink ribbons heading in the same direction.

'I'm coming with you!' it shouted triumphantly. 'Mum has allowed me to go and see the Guard parade too!' Elia was almost dancing around and glancing at him with satisfaction.

'No way...' he gritted his teeth. 'Small girls are not interested in Guard things' he added hopefully.

'Well, I'm not a small girl anymore and I AM interested' she replied. 'And if we don't hurry up we might be late!' she finished and ran for the stairs, jumping over a few with each step. He couldn't do anything else but follow. He didn't blame her for wanting to disappear from the house just as he did. Pretending to be a sweet, little kid all day long in front of aunt Laria was probably too much even for Elia. She couldn't count on their older brothers either when it come to providing entertainment - they treated her even more paternally than him. This way she often became his partner in crime. Most of the times, she proved to be a good partner, in fact. Besides, it wasn't her fault she was a girl, right?

--

The fair was even more exciting than he had expected. He couldn't decide if he liked better the sword fight show or the bow shooting contest. The brightest moment came when he won the first prize in the boys contest for best shooter. All weapons were allowed and his days of sling-shot training finally paid off. The only downside in the whole event was Elia running around him like a mad fly and spoiling the killer impression he tried to put on. Especially when they met Fargan and his friends...

'Wow, so little Lorlen has been promoted to a nanny?' Fargan said to his pack, eyes full of contempt and lips twisted into a scornful smile.

'Next thing we'll hear he's become a housewife' the last word spoken in a mockingly high voice spurred a loud giggle from his companions. Lorlen couldn't think of any clever retort so he just turned on his heel, pretending not to hear anything and walked away. He only stretched his hand back to pull Elia along, who was happily sticking out her tongue at Fargan. They anyway had to get even with Fargan and his followers, so he decided to let this insult wait for a more suitable moment. He didn't want to let such a small incident spoil his day.

Just as he expected, it wasn't also difficult to quietly part with Velia's supervision. She was meeting so many friends, far relatives and acquaintances on her way that she simply couldn't control what they were doing each moment. So, they generally strolled in their own company, visiting whatever stall or display they found interesting. They paid attention to appear within Velia's sight from time to time, but otherwise they were free. It took them well over three hours of wandering and manoeuvring in a crowd of families, servants and sellers to finally reach a decision that there was nothing else interesting enough to see.

They sat on a small parapet in vicinity of a restaurant where Velia was having a chat over a cup of sumi with one of her closer friends. The day was getting hotter and they were enjoying the nice, cool shadow of a great pachi tree that spread its huge branches just over them. They finally could rest their legs and let all the wonderful things they saw sink in. It was one of those great, lazy moments when all senses are so satiated with experiences that there is no need of describing them with words. They sat in silence for quite a while. Finally Walin broke the spell. He stretched, half standing up and asked: 'So... What do we do next?'

'We need to be home by dinner...' Lorlen replied hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to move from where he was sited. He lazily straightened his legs, inspecting with no real interest a small hole in his trousers on the right knee.

'How about taking another look at that alley we've found yesterday?' Walin's voice sounded more persistent. Lorlen gazed him inquisitively.

'It was already getting dark when we've reached it so I think there might still be some interesting things we've missed.' Walin continued a bit too persistent to sound sincere.

_'There you go...'_ thought Lorlen. He was sure Walin regretted that he had to leave the knife they had found in Lorlen's hands. Walin was a whole year older and everybody unanimously agreed without any need for discussion that he was the leader in their group. It must have hurt his pride that Lorlen has got the main trophy this time. He probably hoped that now they would find something less conspicuous that he could keep but nevertheless valuable, so that he would redeem his position. Lorlen had no intention of undermining Walin's leadership - he honestly accepted it. He would have given his friend the knife if only he knew Walin could keep it. It struck him that Walin had probably planned to re-visit the alley from the very beginning and that was why he has made his mother invite Lorlen to the Guard parade. But if it could help Walin feel better, let it be...

'Well, we might actually go and take a look again...' he said soothingly, trying to hide his lack of will to move anywhere. 'It's not far from here'.

'Great!' Walin almost jumped up, radiating excitement. 'Let's go'.

Lorlen stood up slowly, casting a quick look at the restaurant. 'You're sure your mother won't notice us missing?'

'Definitely not. Just look at her.' Walin rolled his eyes .'She wouldn't notice if the place went on fire'.

'Ok then.' Lorlen was ready to follow his friend who set out to the western entrance of the square.

'Wait,' he stopped. 'We can't take her with us' he answered the questioning look when Walin turned around. He looked at Elia who was following him as if it was self-explanatory.

'You have to stay here and wait' he ordered, putting as much authority into his voice as he could.

Elia's face turned red with anger, lips pressed tight, and eyes throwing thunders.

'No way' she said slowly, stressing every letter. For a tender 10-year old she definitely could make an impression.

_'She's just like mother'_ Lorlen sighed in his mind. He exchanged meaningful looks with Walin.

'Elia,' Walin tried to be patient, 'it's too dangerous for you to join us'.

Lorlen couldn't help noting for himself that in fact it was probably too dangerous for them too. Knives didn't lay in streets because they needed a safe place to rest... It was Inner City not slums, for one.

'It also is dangerous for me to stay here alone' Elia replied, a mischievous smile curling her tiny lips. 'I could be kidnapped with no one to look after me' she continued calmly, scanning them with an innocent look and moving her gaze from one face to the other and back.

Lorlen could virtually hear Walin gritting his teeth. He cast him a quick look and noticed an unspoken reproach in his friend's eyes. _'Couldn't you, for heaven's sake, leave her at home?'_ it said.

'Elia...' Lorlen started, this time pleadingly.

'Of course,' she cut in, not thrown out of her balance for a moment, 'I could seek custody from Walin's mother.' She paused noticing with a smile the horrified looks in their faces, 'and if she asked me where you went, I couldn't lie. It's against my nature to lie, you know...' she finished innocently, flapping her eyelashes. Lorlen looked at Walin again and their gazes locked for a longer moment while they communicated without words, weighting their chances.

'Ok,' Walin said finally, taking the initiative and turning towards Elia. 'You may come with us. But you must follow my orders at all times.' His face became really scary when he regarded Elia.

'If you fail to do so, even a single time, I will lock you and leave in the old, burned house we've found, where the Thieves meet each night'. Lorlen noticed the satisfaction in his look when Elia's eyes filled with fear. Or maybe she only pretended to be scared? He hesitated. Was she playing them like a game of checkers? He couldn't tell for sure. His sister was far too clever, he noted when they finally set out for the western part of the Inner City.


	2. Prologue, part 2

'You said it was close from the Southern Square!' Elia spat while gasping for air. It took them almost an hour to reach the street which they finally recognized as the one leading to the alley they investigated the previous day.

'Nobody forced you to come' Lorlen retorted angrily but he had to admit he couldn't feel his legs himself. After all, they spent the morning quite actively. Yesterday somehow the way seemed straighter but today it persisted in misleading them. They turned and turned, losing their way time after time, going back, taking another way and getting lost again. They were all relieved when Walin suddenly stopped pointing his hand to an alley.

'Here!' he exclaimed. 'I remember this marking on the wall; it looks like a reber head.'

'Egh, it stinks here' Elia sniffed cautiously and then twisted her little nose. 'Do we have to go in there?'

'You can stay here if you like. Alone. And wait for somebody to kidnap you' Walin was merciless.

She cast him a reproachful look but said nothing. They entered the alley. It seemed derelict, even more so than the street they have just left. Up till there, they were in fact moving in a crowd of people. They were strangers, true, and often also quite annoyed by a group of kids messing around between their legs - they moved and pushed them around angrily - but still, they were in a known situation and it forged a feeling of, at least, partial self-assurance. The last turn took them onto an empty street where Walin recognized the mark on a wall. That street was simply void of people; only rarely they saw somebody lurking around or hastily moving in one direction or another. But the place they have just entered was more than empty. It was deserted. It looked like everybody has forgotten about it a long time ago and that it lived its own life since then - a life of dirt and mould gathering on the cobblestones and rotten doorsteps; of broken doors and windowsills, flapping from time to time in the faint wind; and of garbage flying around the corners in the draught. It was a life that seemed not to accept any truly living being disturbing its peace. Lorlen couldn't help feeling he was an intruder here, even though he was constantly trying to convince himself nobody - or rather nothing - could be observing him through the broken windows and empty doorframes. He had to admit now that their hasty leave yesterday was probably more due to the unwelcome atmosphere of this place rather than it getting too late. He also couldn't help noticing that the alley didn't look any better in daylight. It even looked worse, with all the details clearly visible. Or maybe it was the fact that there was no human presence in sight rather than the looks of it? In the evening, all streets were more or less deserted, in the bright light of noon the emptiness of this place was more striking. It might just as well be that they couldn't find it in daylight because of that - they were instinctively choosing ways that other people also chose. This alley and the street that led to it seemed to be evaded by everybody as if it didn't exist.

'Why is it so deserted?' Elia sniffed again as if she could smell the repulsing emptiness just as she could smell the stench. She stopped suddenly, covering her mouth with a hand. Lorlen looked at her but continued walking, determined not to pay attention to her complaints. But when she still didn't move after he walked a few steps away, he reluctantly halted and urged Walin to stop. They both looked at Elia expectantly. Lorlen was sure she was making a show again, trying to get their attention. But when she spoke he couldn't fail noticing that this time she was really scared.

'I know where we are...' she whispered. 'It's the Forsaken Quarter! I've heard Marika talk with Makan about it some time ago.'

'Forsaken what?' Walin sounded sceptical.

'Forsaken Quarter' Elia repeated, this time louder.

'A few years ago there were a lot of people murdered here' she explained. 'Marika says it was some kind of revenge between the Houses, and there where deaths on either side. And that the ghosts of the murdered still haunt this place; and you can sometimes still hear them fighting with each other.' Her voice was filled with horror.

'Ghosts?...' asked Walin in a mocking voice 'I can't see or hear any. If you're scared you can go back.'

He turned back and started walking again. Elia kept standing still, making Lorlen feel torn. He remembered vaguely something about violent murders in one part of the city. But he was no avid listener to Marika's stories so he didn't know exactly what had happened. He was also sure Marika liked to add her own details here and there and he definitely didn't believe the ghost part. But he supposed Elia was right about the alley they were in - it probably was the place where the slaughter took place; it could well explain why most people avoided it and why it deteriorated in such a way. But that only made him want to explore it even more. The fact that he knew now why it looked like it did somehow wiped most of his fears away.

He couldn't leave Elia alone here, though.

'Walin!' he called.

'Wait a moment' he pleaded seeing his friend's face twisted in impatience and scorn.

'Elia, you cannot stay here alone, and Walin and I are going further' he regarded his sister.

'We have warned you but you wanted to go yourself, so don't act scared now' he said in a harsh tone hoping to make her angry and forget her worries. But she remained still, looking petrified.

'Come on, there's nothing scary there' he tried, this time gently. She finally looked at him but didn't move an inch.

'Come, we'll only see what's right there round the corner and then we'll go back'. She slowly nodded her head.

'Let's go' Lorlen was set not to let her change her mind. He grabbed her hand and pulled her reluctant body behind him.

They joined Walin who in the meantime was investigating a decrepit entrance.

'It seems nobody was using this for quite a time...' he said 'but we might try and see what's inside'.

Lorlen looked sceptically into the entrance from behind his shoulder. He didn't have any will whatsoever to investigate the derelict buildings.

They have almost reached the end of the alley; they could see the dead-end just behind a stack of old and broken furniture and other debris thrown out in the middle of the street. Somewhere there they have found the knife yesterday. He left Walin at the door and went to see if there was anything else interesting to find. Elia was following him closely. He crouched next to the heap and pushed a few wooden pieces aside. He took a closer look at a moulding armchair that seemed to have survived almost intact. Its armrests were carved in the form of wild animals, and under layers of dirt he could see that the upholstery had an intricate pattern of embroidery. In the middle of broken chairs, tables, shards of glass and rotten paper it seemed to have an almost royal look. For a while he wondered where it used to stand and who used to sit in it every evening. He didn't remember which House's residences used to be in this part of city. Who was actually involved in this vendetta that happened here? Maybe some family incal would be carved at the back of this armchair? He grabbed one of its legs and pulled on it delicately, trying to bring the object out of the stack. It shifted slightly but there seemed to be something that was blocking its movement. He kneeled and reached with his hand as far in as he could, intending to remove whatever was caught in between the armchair's legs.

'Ouch!' he scowled, pulling his arm back. He must have cut himself on some piece of broken glass. He looked with disgust at the heap of rubbish, sucking on his finger. Then he grabbed the chair again and pulled stronger. Brute force might work better here than gentleness. It let go a little bit but then become stuck again. Some of the garbage that leaned on top of the chair wobbled dangerously. He half stood up, bending over the chair and grabbing its seat. He found a stable support for his feet on some other wooden piece, tensed his muscles and pulled as strong as he could. Whatever was holding the armchair, finally let go and Lorlen swayed when all the chair weight landed in his arms. This has saved him from being crushed severely. It seemed that the armchair was holding most of the heap in its place. When it was moved away, the rest collapsed with a huge noise, some of it hitting Lorlen on the legs. He jumped away, scowling again. Walin jumped out of the building he was searching through.

'What on earth are you doing?' he asked, trying to yell and whisper at the same time - the atmosphere of the place somehow did not encourage raised voices. Lorlen pointed at the armchair.

'I was trying to pull this out when all this garbage almost buried me forever' he said, mad at the mischievous household equipment. He kicked the debris as if he wanted to get revenge. But it only caused another, this time small, avalanche; and since he aimed his kick at a broken stool his collection of bruises only increased. Walin drew a meaningful circle on his forehead.

'And why for heaven's sake would you want to pull this crap out?'

'I just wanted to see...' Lorlen started, jumping on one leg. 'Hey, what is that?'

He stopped and went closer to the stack. Something glittered amongst the pieces of wood, which he didn't notice before. It must have come out when the pile collapsed. He pulled delicately on a thin, silver chain. It turned out to be a necklace. A very strange one, too. On a chain that seemed a bit to tough for a women's neck, hung a wolf's head figure, now tarnished but probably made of silver as well. Lorlen pulled it closer to his eyes, Walin's head close to his and his gaze also focused on the necklace.

'It's not exactly a wolf...' he decided.

'What kind of animal is that then? I haven't heard of anything like this' Walin mused moving his fingers over the figure and turning it around. 'The proportions are wrong, it seems more violent...'

'Wait,' Lorlen took a step away from the heap and towards the armchair. 'The same animal is carved into the arms of the chair. I took it for a wolf also, but I simply didn't look close enough. What is it now?' he asked impatiently when Elia almost ripped the hem of his jacket. She was pulling on it for some time already but he was too engrossed in his new finding to pay any attention.

'I have heard something' she said in a shaky voice.

'A ghost possibly' Walin teased her. 'Come on, don't be silly'.

'No, she's right.' Lorlen listened carefully trying to pick out again the sound he's just heard. Walin also went quiet.

'It's not a ghost. Somebody's coming this way' he said after a short while, looking anxiously at Lorlen.

They looked each other in the eyes for a moment still listening carefully.

'It's not like we're doing anything illegal...' Lorlen started weakly.

'No, but somehow I don't feel I would like to be seen here' Walin didn't sound convinced. 'Besides, what kind of people are strollin in this type of place? We'd better hide,' Lorlen nodded in agreement.

'And quick! They are getting closer!'. They jumped as fast as they could and hid behind the pile.

They crouched obscured from one side by a piece of a decaying bed; on the other side almost pressed into a wall. This wasn't the best hiding place, as Lorlen quickly noticed. The broken, wooden piece of furniture barely covered the three of them and it wouldn't be of any help if anybody came close enough to look from above. He already regretted they didn't choose to hide in one of the buildings - there they would be unnoticeable. But now it was too late, the footsteps where no more than a few yards from the heap. Lorlen could now clearly make out two pairs of heavy shoes beating out an uneven rhythm on the cobblestones. Then, they also heard the voices.

'I threw it away somewhere here...' Lorlen could make the words out clearly. He felt the skin on his neck creep when he realized that the men were standing no more than a few feet away from them. He heard some rubble. They must have started to move around some pieces in the pile.

'There's nothing here.' It was the other man speaking.

'We would have found it already, it's not a needle' his voice was now filled with anger.

'It must be somewhere here, it couldn't have evaporated...' the first man's voice was now sounding pleading and a bit scared. He probably expected trouble from the other one if he didn't find what they were looking for. Lorlen heard louder noise as the man dug deeper and more violently into the stack. There were some thuds when some pieces crushed to the ground.

'You stupid fuck!' The other one was now not even trying to hide his fury. 'You must have gone out of your mind to throw away the knife! The only fucking trace of the murder is now in somebody else's hands! And I bet it will quickly find its way to the Guard! Whoever found it didn't come here by accident!'

Lorlen's heart stopped when he realized what they were looking for. He instinctively laid his hand over his jacket where he attached the knife. He slowly turned his head to Walin feeling his urgent gaze. He looked into his eyes and saw them unnaturally widened with panic. He noted with strange calmness, as if he was observing everything from outside his body, that he probably looked just as pale and panicked. Walin silently pointed at his hand that he still held tightly on his jacket. He nodded his head in answer. He felt the time was flowing in slow motion. He could hear his every heartbeat; they seemed separated from each other by impossibly long time, although he knew that in fact his heart must have now been pounding with the speed of light. The blood has rushed into his veins and seemed to crack his temples. He noticed Walin still pointing at his jacket so he slowly pulled the bundle out from it. Walin grabbed the packet and unwrapped it quickly. He put his hand over Elias mouth just in time. She already looked horrified when she heard the men speaking about murder, but when she saw the knife in Walin's hands she almost fainted. Fortunately, Walin's hand covered most of Elias tiny face so instead of a loud shriek that was bound to come out, she only let out a quiet gasp. When he was sure she has got the hold of herself, Walin pulled his hand back, licked a finger and moved it over the knife's blade. Lorlen observed his actions still feeling horribly numb and strangely separated from his surroundings. What he took for rust oddly enough was wiped away easily by Walin's wet finger. Walin rubbed his fingers and inspected them closely; then looked up at Lorlen again, anxiety all over his face. If Lorlen had any doubts whether he was in possession of the knife the men were talking about, he lost them now. The knife was all covered in dried blood.

'You're finished with the search?' The angry man asked scornfully. Lorlen almost jumped, awoken from his stupor and for a while thinking the question was addressed at him. He was sure the silent interaction they had with Walin must have lasted hours, but it seemed it couldn't have been longer than a minute. The other man has only just stopped rummaging through the heap.

'Well, maybe someone simply kicked it aside while walking here...' They heard a few steps moving away from them - the man must have started searching around. The other one only laughed in disdain.

'Stop being silly' he said this time without any trace of humour. 'You might just as well wait for Grimman' he paused meaningfully. 'And for his judgement.'

They heard the searching man scowl.

'Well, take a seat and relax' another burst of laughter followed a screeching sound – he probably moved the old armchair. Lorlen looked at Walin with concern. If the men were indeed waiting for someone else to come, they would be unable to move away from their hiding place. And who knew what the new person would do. If he was more persistent in searching around the heap than those two, it could end in huge trouble for them. Lorlen shivered when he imagined what would happen to them if they were found. Walin seemed to have thought about just the same thing, because his face was twisted with concern. Lorlen wondered how long they will have to remain here, crouched and petrified with fear. He already felt his legs going numb in places – the position he was cramped in wasn't a comfortable one. He didn't know how long he'd be able to last like this. Thank heavens it was at least warm.

The man who had searched for the knife was now pacing nervously back and forth, they could hear his steps getting further from them and then coming back again. After what seemed to them an eternity, he stopped somewhere in front of the heap.

'Do we have to wait here like this?' he asked. 'Grimman is not going to be here before they finish with the other case. And I'd love to sit my ass somewhere else than on some rotting crap.' The other man laughed in answer.

'You thought I'd let you go like this? No way.' He paused for a while. 'But, yes, we might use some rest. There's even a place here where we can sit down in decent surroundings. Follow me.'

They could hear the two men walking away, but when their hopes were already high the men stopped and a screeching sound followed. Then the footsteps resumed but this time muffled as if coming from behind a wall. The men have probably entered one of the houses, and unfortunately one that was close. They sat in silence for another while, and then Walin risked a whisper.

'Do you think we should move now?' Lorlen shrugged his shoulders.

'I guess we might try. But one by one, not all together; otherwise we'd make too much noise' he replied in a low voice. Walin nodded and started to move as quietly as he could out of their cover. When he was about to come out, he stuck his head out slowly over the broken bed. He must have been satisfied with what he saw as he beckoned Lorlen to follow him. They moved out in file, still crouching. They stopped again for a moment before coming entirely out from behind the pile of debris. Lorlen could still hear someone moving somewhere close, but it sounded dim. Walin gave him a sign to wait and half crouching went out aiming towards the wall at one side of the street. When he reached it, he squat again. He took a look around, then holding a finger across his lips motioned the others to follow. Lorlen grabbed Elia's hand and ducked towards the wall, pulling her behind himself. He breathed more relaxed and was just about to stand up and run towards the alley exit, when he felt Elia pulling on his jacket again. He followed her gaze and noticed with horror two silhouettes behind a broken window in the building just opposite them. A flickering torchlight was just moving towards the windowsill and a muffled voice could be heard.

'...heard something'. It was the knife owner. Lorlen felt sweat gathering on his neck again.

'It's probably that stinky rubbish flying around' the other one said lazily from further away. Lorlen thanked him in his mind for his sluggishness and begged the other to be just as indolent. As if in answer to his prayers, they heard a loud, crashing noise.

'Damn books!' the first man shouted angrily. Lorlen heard him kicking at something but before he found out what the man was to do next, he felt himself pulled up. He looked up scared but he saw Walin urging him to stand up. He jumped up without thinking, grabbing Elia's hand again and set out in a run behind his friend. He could only hope that the noise of the man rummaging through whatever has crashed down would cover the sound of their footsteps.


	3. Prologue, part 3

They ran breathlessly as fast as Elia's little legs allowed, until they began crashing into people. They have reached a street just outside the Forsaken Quarter. Walin slowed down finally because it was difficult to run in a crowd. He wanted to continue walking, but Elia stopped suddenly, panting. The boys pulled her aside, out of the way of angry passer-bys, but didn't urge her to go, letting her catch her breath. Lorlen's brain seemed to have started working again and he felt a pang of worry and guilt. He should have forced her to stay at the fair; she definitely shouldn't have seen and heard what she has. Before he could however torment himself with blame, a more physical punishment struck him. He looked down surprised when he felt a punch in his stomach. It was Elia; she clenched her hands into fists and was beating him severely wherever she could hit him.

'You stupid, stupid, stupid...' she panted, stressing each word with a blow 'why did you have to take that horrible knife?!'

Lorlen cowered – even though she didn't have enough power to make the punches strong, when amassed they did, indeed, hurt.

'Stop it!' he groaned when he finally managed to catch a breath between the blows. She hit him one more time and then looked up into his face; hands down but still clenched in fists. Tears started to streak her cheeks but she was furious and ready to strike again.

'Why do you have to be so stupid?! Now they will kill us all!'

Lorlen couldn't find an answer to that. He now regretted taking the knife, too.

'Well...' he started not really sure what to say. 'I will go back and leave it there when they're gone – and everything we'll be ok' he added quickly, noticing her tensing again.

'Go back?!' she screamed and punched him again in the stomach. 'Are you out of your mind?!'

Walin caught her arm stopping her from beating his friend.

'She's right, Lorlen. Going back is out of question. I don't think they would believe the knife had been there all the time. Not after they searched the place through and through. It would only make them more suspicious and that means more trouble for us.' He paused for a while, thinking.

'Well, we have to sit down and think what to do now. But not here' he added, casting a meaningful look sideways. People were already slowing down near them and watching their quarrel suspiciously. 'Let's go back to the Square; we've already been away for far too long. Then we'll find some quiet place and find a way out of this mess'.

Lorlen was grateful that Walin has taken the lead again. His composure was comforting, but the realization that Velia might already be looking for them made his insides twitch again. With the greatest danger now moving further away with each their step, the more imminent matters started to bother him. He didn't want to think about what awaited him home if Velia complained to his mother.

--

The way back to the Southern Square was surprisingly short. Lorlen woke up from his thoughts convinced that they were still somewhere close to the gate and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw they were already approaching the Square. What took them so long before?...

Walin started looking around searching for his mother. They saw her almost running in their direction through the now almost empty Square.

'Oops. We're in trouble' Lorlen noticed, cringing.

'Leave it to me' Walin responded calmly.

'Mum, I'm so sorry...' he started when she was already close, putting on a relieved look and moving towards her.

'We didn't know it would take so long...' he added apologetically. He took a deep breath noticing Velia's face turning from worried to angry, and then uncertain. He was just about to start a lengthy explanation when a noisy sob interrupted his line of thoughts. They all looked down at Elia who was sniffing her nose and wiping the tears that run down her face. Lorlen's heart skipped; he already pictured her telling Velia everything about their little adventure. Did she have to break down right now? Couldn't she wait just a while longer? He stepped on her foot, trying to get her attention and stop her from whatever she was to say. She seemed not to notice; she was still sobbing and seemed to take consolation in Velia's sudden care. Walin's mother was now all gentle, she bent over Elia, took out a handkerchief and was wiping the tears of her face and patting her soothingly on the shoulder.

'It's ok darling, everything is all right now' she whispered softly. Elia finally stopped crying and looked up at her.

'It was that funny man with the little monkey' she began in a shaky voice. 'I so badly wanted to see the monkey play the cymbals – she was playing and the man was singing... And they were going all around the square and we were following them with the other kids' she continued, sniffing from time to time.

'And then they went through the northern entrance and continued towards the palace. But they were singing and playing so nicely... So we went after them. And when we wanted to come back, we couldn't find the way! We thought we were going back the same way, but we got so terribly lost!' she started to cry again and some words came out muffled.

'We didn't know where we were and we were walking and walking. And I was so tired already; I thought we'll never find the way... But then Walin has noticed a Guard patrol' She looked up at Velia, rubbing her wet face with her fists. 'And they finally showed us how to reach here' she sniffed one more time as to mark the happy ending. Walin and Lorlen only kept nodding their heads throughout her story.

'Oh, honey, it must have been horrible. But it is all right now.' Velia wiped her face with the handkerchief again. 'Let's go now; you need to rest after all this! The cart is waiting. I'll send somebody to let your parents know that you'll be late. I cannot let you go home in such a state; you both have to stay for dinner with us.' Elia nodded her head, grabbed the hand that she was offered and went with Velia.

The boys followed them closely, not daring to say a word. Lorlen looked at his sister with true awe. How did she manage to think up a story like that in a mere second? He himself was terrible at lying... It seemed that Elia has got all the right genes for it, leaving him without any. Whenever he did something wrong and tried to cover it with a credible story, he found it hard to think of anything plausible and when he did, his explanations were always weak. Their parents didn't have any trouble whatsoever in judging when he was telling the truth. He didn't know what it was – he tried to keep his voice natural and his face straight, but they read him like a book. Not that he wanted to lie to them in serious matters, but a small confabulation here and there could prove useful. Unfortunately, it seemed not to be his cup of tea. Elia, however, to his surprise, was brilliant. He didn't have a chance until now to appreciate it fully, but today she proved to have a real talent. It might be worth to involve her more often in their matters...

--

The travel to Walin's family house didn't take long and they spent it all in silence. Lorlen tried and pushed away the thoughts about the knife – he was too tired to worry. When he sat down in the cart he finally felt his muscles relax a bit. His feet were hurting, and his legs were bruised in places after the rummage through the garbage pile. He closed his eyes for a moment enjoying this short moment of rest. He knew it wouldn't be long, he would soon have to be all alert and possibly worried again, but during the ride back nobody expected anything of him, nobody was trying to harass him about the knife and nobody was disappointed with his actions. He could let his mind wander aimlessly. If the way was any longer, he would have probably fallen asleep. Unfortunately, the cart soon halted to a stop, the door opened and they were rushed out. They were informed that the dinner is ready and on the table, so Velia urged them to get refreshed quickly and come to the dining room. They barely had a minute alone.

'I have thought it over' Walin whispered when they were passing through the hall into the dining room. 'I cannot hide the knife in my room, but I don't want you to have to keep it any longer. After we eat, I'll invite you to borrow my notes on the Sachakan war that you'll need for the next week's exam. I will finish earlier and pretend to go up to my room to fetch them. You'll go after me, but not up, but to the garden – just take the left corridor to the kitchen and go out through the back door. We'll bury the damn knife there. There is a place where nothing is grown – it is where the old shed used to stand. We can dig a hole there and nobody will find it for ages.'

Lorlen looked at him with apprehension. 'I thought it would be wise to...' he started but was instantly interrupted.

'Oh, here you are finally' Velia was standing in the dining's room entrance. 'Come, come before everything goes cold'. They had no choice but to part and take their seats.

Fortunately, nobody expected them to be overly talkative. Lorlen concentrated on eating and kept a minimum of a polite conversation. Once he was at the table, all the nice aromas and tasty looking dishes reminded him that he didn't eat for hours. Thankfully, Velia probably guessed that they might be hungry and didn't harass them too much. Walin was also quiet and Elia was nicely playing her part – she pretended to be a sweet, naive, little girl, that has went through a terrifying, but edifying adventure. Which was, in fact, true. Except maybe the naive part. Lorlen was grateful for her presence again.

When the sounds of the cutlery started to slowly die out – which was a clear sign that their stomachs were close to full capacity – Walin reminded himself loudly about the notes he was supposed to lend to Lorlen. He excused himself and went out. A while after that Lorlen put the knife and fork down, thanked for the meal and followed his friend out. Elia looked up questioningly at him from her dish. For a moment her face was full of resentment but she quickly turned back to the conversation she was having with Velia. Lorlen took the back door to the garden just as his friend had told him. He found Walin behind the remains of an old garden shed.

'Look, I don't think it's wise to bury the knife' he spoke keeping his voice down. 'I guess we should simply hand it over to the Guard.' He hesitated for a while before continuing. 'I know it means that we have to tell them about everything, but...' he shrugged. 'And maybe I could talk to Finnel, and he would keep it to himself...'

'Yeah, right' Walin rolled his eyes. He had taken a spade from the shed and was now digging a narrow hole. 'Tell it all to Finnel and your father will know about it in less than an hour. And you can be sure the next time we meet we'll be doddery old men.'

Lorlen cringed. Walin was unfortunately right. 'Still, I think this could help them find the murderer. We can't be hindering the work of the Guard just because our parents wouldn't be happy with our actions.'

Walin didn't say a word to that; he only dug more violently, putting so much effort into it that the spade's handle was creaking. He hadn't been wasting his time; the hole was almost ready. He gave it a few more shoves, then cast the spade away. He straightened up and looked Lorlen in the eyes.

'Listen now. If I only had any delusions about the effectiveness of our Guard, I might be considering what you've proposed. But let's face it, their chances of catching the murderers are close to zero. Oh, I know you don't like to hear about it' he threw in noticing Lorlen wincing. 'I know how much you adore them. But let's not be naive. The men we've heard are most probably Thieves. And whether you like it or not, the Guard has deep connections with them. We might just as well be treading on somebody's toes when we hand over the knife... And that might be somebody in the Guard.' He sighed. 'Lorlen, we won't save anybody's life with that otherwise praiseworthy action. And besides' his voice turned deadly serious 'our friendship is worth more than that to me'.

He paused still looking at his friend. Lorlen slowly nodded his head and handed him the bundle that was up till now safely tucked underneath his jacket. Walin sighed, threw it down the hole and started working the spade again. When the ground was level again, he covered the freshly moved earth with some rotten leaves and grass from the waste heap that stood close to the shed.

'Ok, now one more thing. I know it might sound silly, but I guess this is the most serious trouble we've ever got ourselves into. Please, swear that you'll never tell anybody where the knife is hidden, unless we both decide otherwise.'

'I swear' Lorlen vowed.

'Good. Let this remain our secret, hopefully till the end of our lives' they exchanged their secret handshake. 'Be sure to keep an eye on Elia, too. She seems to be on our side, but you never know...'

'I will' Lorlen promised.

'Take this' he added after a short while, pulling out the wolf-shaped necklace. Walin looked at him surprised.

'I didn't know you took that...' he said hesitantly. 'Keep it; you found it, it's yours' he finished but Lorlen could hear longing in his voice.

'No' Lorlen insisted. 'You take it; I don't need it really...'

Walin extended his arm slowly, still hesitating, but his eyes were glowing. Lorlen put the necklace in his hand, smiling.

'Thank you. It really means a lot'. Walin returned the smile, his face going slightly red. He regarded the necklace for a moment and then put it carefully into his pocket.

'Ok, let's move now. I hope no one noticed we're here.' Walin rushed towards the kitchen door, rubbing his hands on his trousers to get rid of the dirt they were covered with. 'Let's go upstairs; I'll give you the notes so it doesn't look suspicious.'

They didn't meet anybody on the way up, but when they were coming down Lorlen noticed that Elia was already standing in the door with Walin's mother and Makan. Velia was tucking his sister in a coat that was much too big for her.

'Take this, it's already getting cold, you'd get sick if you go out dressed only in a skirt.' Velia said softly. She looked up noticing Lorlen and regarded him critically. 'Let me look if I can find something for you, too.'

'No, no, I'm ok' Lorlen said quickly, afraid what she might force him to wear. 'It's really a short walk' he added approaching the door as fast as he could.

'Goodbye and thank you for the care' he said grabbing Elia by the hand and moving closer to Makan.

'Ok, but be quick' she glowered at Makan. 'Send my regards to your mother and father'.

Lorlen nodded his head, waved a hand at Walin and followed Makan outside. It was getting cold indeed and he could feel goose bumps forming on his skin. He walked as fast as he could; dreaming only about a warm bed that awaited him home. He really felt tired now; all the events of the day seemed to overwhelm him. Elia was quiet, she probably felt as exhausted as he did. Fortunately, it was really a short way and soon they stood before the door. Lorlen only hoped that Velia's invitation for dinner was convincing enough and that he wouldn't have to explain himself for being late. They passed the hall towards the stairs and were just about to climb them as they saw that the door to the living room was open. Both their parents were sitting at the couch and opposite them sat two people wearing robes.

'_Magicians!'_ Lorlen thought, astonished to see any in his own living room. The woman was wearing green and the man violet robes. Lorlen knew that meant something about their specialities but he didn't remember exactly what. Since they have been already spotted by both the magicians and their parents, Lorlen grabbed Elia's hand again and led her to the living room – it would be impolite not to great the guests.

'Good evening' he said, reminding himself to bow – it was something he remembered about the magicians; they were said to be touchy about being treated with due respect.

'Good evening Lorlen, Elia' his father said. 'This is Lady Kiala and Lord Margen. They have visited us to talk about your brother's chances of being invited to study in the Magician's Guild.'

'Good evening Lorlen and Elia' Lady Kiala smiled at him, when he turned to face her again. She seemed to be a kind person; Lord Margen, on the other hand, had an unwelcome feel about him. He was constantly wincing and gazing at them apprehensively.

Lorlen knew that magicians were visiting the Houses from time to time to check if there were any young candidates for the Guild with enough magical potential. It was quite an honour to have magicians in the House, but on the other hand many families were reluctant to send their progeny to the Guild. Some of them were in fact hiding the youngsters when the Guild representatives came. This was because magicians couldn't hold any political positions and were obliged by the King's law to be neutral in all the in- House issues and between- House conflicts. Once somebody became a magician, they had to leave all their previous life behind and take up only, well, magic. That also meant they couldn't be seriously involved in any business matters. That was why his father objected strongly when a few years ago Perryl was found to have enough potential to be admitted into the Guild. Perryl was the family heir and their father prepared him from the very beginning to take over his business. Even though he was a little kid back then, Lorlen remembered clearly that father nearly threw out the magicians when they insisted in Perryl joining the Guild. His brother didn't have a striking talent, but in their House there were very few people with magical potential and somehow the Guild thought that if they found anybody, the family should feel obliged to send them to the Guild. And now it was Marin's turn. Lorlen remembered that his second brother was quite eager to become a magician. No potential was found in him when he was checked alongside Perryl. But the magicians said then that he was very young and the potential could still develop. That's probably why they were there now.

'Will Marin become a magician?' Lorlen couldn't resist asking.

'No, unfortunately he doesn't have enough magical potential' Lady Kiala shook her head sadly. 'How old are you, Lorlen?' she asked, smiling again.

'Thirteen' he replied. 'That is, I will be 13 in one month' he corrected himself, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

'Would _you_ like to be a magician?' she inquired further.

'Me??' Lorlen exclaimed before he could stop himself. It never crossed his mind before that he will also be checked for magical potential one day. It simply seemed to be other people's issue. His father of course wanted him to be involved in the family business – just as he wanted it for all his sons – but Lorlen dreamed of joining the City Guard. Walin could think and say what he wanted about the Guard, but Lorlen had decided years ago that this was his future. He never imagined another career for himself. And now this woman seemed to want him to join the Guild. He looked desperately at his parents, seeking any help.

'I guess you're old enough and your potential should be already visible, if you have any. We might want to do it again later, but it's not too early for a preliminary check. What do you think?' she asked facing the other magician. He shrugged.

'Well, since we're already here, we might see...' he said coldly.

Lorlen took a step back. He didn't know what this 'preliminary check' would look like, but he was adamant to take part in it. What if they did indeed find any potential in him? It was rare in his family, but who knows? Would his father be as firm in keeping him away from the Guild as he was in Perrly's case? He didn't want to check that.

'Don't be afraid, Lorlen' Lady Kiala said softly. 'It won't hurt at all and won't take more than a minute. Come closer, please' she added standing up. Lord Margen followed her suit. He was a tall man in his sixties and when he stood up he looked even less inviting.

Lorlen looked again at his parents in panic. His father only nodded his head.

'Go Lorlen, you need to take this trial anyway' he said. His wife smiled at Lorlen reassuringly. Was she also against him? Lorlen couldn't simply believe it. She knew well about his ambitions to join the Guard and she was far more approving of it than father. How could she now be letting this happen? He simply couldn't go to the Guild, all this was pointless. But his parents didn't do or say anything more. He didn't have any choice – he swallowed and approached the magicians. Lady Kiala was still smiling. She grabbed his hand – her touch was warm and soft. Especially in comparison with the dry and cold hand of Lord Margen who took his other hand.

'_Relax, Lorlen'._ He almost jumped hearing her voice and seeing her lips still at the same time. The voice was ringing in his head! He closed his eyes to avoid the confusion of seeing no one speaking but hearing them at the same time.

'_Relax'_ she repeated in his head. He could feel her and Lord Margen's presence somewhere at the edge of his thoughts.

'_It won't...'_ she started but then paused for a longer moment. Lorlen felt nothing happening to him but could still feel their presence, and the lack of any interaction was beginning to annoy him.

'_...take long'_ Lady Kiala finished finally, speaking each word very slowly.

'I guess that's enough' Lorlen heard her speaking aloud. He opened his eyes to see her exchanging meaningful looks with Lord Margen. 'Lorlen, you are heartily welcome to join the Immardin's Guild of Magicians'.

Lorlen looked at her wide smile with his mouth open, too shocked to respond. Lord Margen lost his apprehensive look and seemed astonished and thoughtful now. Lorlen was gazing at them in turn; still unable to produce any sound. This simply couldn't be happening.

'Lorlen, I guess it's time for you to go to bed now' he heard his father speaking harshly. Hope entered his heart – it seemed father wasn't satisfied with the outcome of the test as well. Lorlen bowed to the magicians – their picture in that moment forever engraved in his mind – and turned away, ready to leave.

'Elia, you too' he stopped hearing his mother's voice. He glanced at his sister – she seemed disappointed.

'Won't I be tested for potential too?' she asked, resentment in her voice.

'Not yet' Lady Kiala answered softly. 'But we will come again to see if you can join the Guild as well'

Elia didn't seem to be satisfied with the answer, her face still winced, but she also turned towards the hall after saying goodbye to the guests. When they were going up the stairs, she grabbed Lorlen's hand reassuringly.

'Don't worry; maybe I will also go to the Guild. Then you wouldn't be there alone'. She looked at him warmly. He didn't answer instantly.

'I won't go to the Guild' he muttered after a while through his teeth. She regarded him inquisitively for a moment but since he didn't reply any more, she just shrugged. Lorlen went to his bedroom in silence.

He couldn't fall asleep even though he was extremely tired. All the previous events of the day seemed so far now and so unimportant. He was trying to overhear what was happening downstairs, but the voices were too dim. He could hear however that the magicians stayed for quite a long time after he left with Elia. This was a good sign, maybe father tried to convince them not to admit him to the Guild. At least he hoped so. But he definitely couldn't hear them being thrown out – they went out in peace. That meant his parents weren't as determined as they were when it was Perryl's career in question. He sighed. A moment later he heard somebody's footsteps on the stairs. It was his mother; he could recognize her light step. He knew she sometimes liked to watch them sleeping. But this time she didn't visit Elia's bedroom which was first in the row. She went straight to his own. He wasn't asleep when she opened the door. She smiled at him when she noticed his eyes were wide open.

'You should be sleeping, Lorlen. It was a long day for you' she said, sitting down at the rim of his bed. She stroked him gently, pulling her fingers through his tangled hair.

'Mum, I don't want to go to the Guild.' She didn't reply but continued to caress him. 'I won't have to, will I?' he whispered.

'We will see. There is still time.' She answered in a soft voice. 'No one is admitted before they are 15.'

'But I want to join the Guard, you know that...' he continued trying not to sound feeble.

'Yes, I know.'

'Will father let them take me to the Guild? He objected when they wanted Perryl.' He tried from a different angle.

'Yes, but he cannot object all the time. The Guild needs new magicians, and he knows about it...' her voice was soothing, but the words were hurting him.

'But it's not fair! Why Perryl is more important than me?' he asked full of resentment.

'He is not, Lorlen... But we have to think of each of you differently when planning your future.'

'It's not fair...' he repeated meekly. She kissed him on the forehead and stood up. She went quietly to the door.

'Try to get some sleep, Lorlen. You really shouldn't be worrying about it all now. Goodnight' she said smiling again.

'Goodnight mum.'

He watched her close the door. His thoughts were still racing. What it would be to be a magician? He shivered. It definitely wasn't for him. He reminded himself another reason that made the Guild seem even more repulsing. Fargan was to become a magician. He didn't fail to boast about it when he was found out to have magical potential. That was also why he instinctively thought about being a magician as something disgusting. Nothing that Fargan was meant to become could be worth pursuing. No way he'd let them make him a magician! He will think of something; he vowed to himself not to stop until he finds a way to avoid joining the Guild. Finally reassured by this declaration he made to himself, he fell asleep – and dreamt about Thieves with wolf-shaped necklaces chasing violet and green dressed magicians.


	4. Chapter 1

Lorlen kicked a small stone in anger. It rolled down the path gaining speed, ricocheted on some larger piece of gravel, jumped up and flew sideways, finally falling down - right in the middle of a pack of seagulls feeding on some breadcrumbs near the fountain. The unsuspecting birds flew up in panic, squealing loudly, which filled Lorlen's heart with some kind of cruel satisfaction. He was sitting on a stone bank that went all around the fountain. It was a nice, summer day that invited just any kind of relaxing activity - it was very warm but not too hot; the skies were bright blue but not pale white like they are in overwhelming heat; and there was a light breeze blowing from the sea, filling the otherwise standing air with a cooling motion. But all this only made him feel worse.

It was his second day in the Imardin's Magician's Guild. The lessons weren't starting until next week, but his father decided in his perverse cruelty - or that's what it seemed to Lorlen - that he should learn his environment and make acquaintances before he was too busy with classes. So there he was, trapped and helpless like a bird in a cage. For him, his father's decision only meant that he had to leave Walin family's summer house one week earlier. As if this vacation wasn't bad enough with the overwhelming knowledge of his due parting with friends and family looming all the time somewhere on the horizon of his thoughts - and making it difficult to enjoy what otherwise was a perfect holiday. The decision to come earlier to the Guild caught him unprepared when his mother arrived unexpectedly one sunny afternoon. He now regretted he hadn't been able to protest more vehemently then, but he simply was too shocked to react properly. What a downright stupid idea to send him here a whole week earlier! How could they do this to him? There was nothing to do and nobody sensible to interact with. That's as far as his old, childish vows went. The fact that he was here now only made him realize painfully how little his 15-year old will counted in an adult's world. Nothing he could do to change it. Unless he tried to escape from the Guild, leave the city and live like a fugitive somewhere in a far part of Kyralia. Maybe then they will think a little about him and regret their decision to send him to the Guild, he thought bitterly. But deep inside he knew well he didn't have the guts for such a move. And it only made him angrier. With Walin he would be able to risk an escape. But alone? He kicked another stone. This time he put too much force into the move and the rock jumped up straight away, followed a curved trajectory in the air and hit the surface of the water with a splash.

'Young man, don't you have anything better to do?'

Lorlen jumped, startled just like the birds that he scared away a while ago. He turned around to see who the hidden observer was and noticed with shock that he knew him well. It was Lord Margen, the same one that has condemned him to the Guild two years ago.

'Here, take this. I need some help with carrying these books.' The old magician seemed not to recognize him. Lorlen opened his mouth in angry bewilderment. Did this doddery old man think Lorlen was his servant?

'Hurry up, I don't have all day.'

Lorlen muttered an impolite reply under his breath but stood up and grabbed the stack of books that the magician left on the bank. He followed Lord Margen into the University building. They headed up towards the second floor. Lorlen held the stack of books in front of his face with half-stretched arms so that he could peek down and see the stairs he was climbing. This is why he couldn't see the face of the novice they passed on their way. He recognized the short, brown robes that did not fully cover the legs of their owner. Even though he didn't get his own yet – he was supposed to get them at the Acceptance Ceremony – he already learned about the colours of robes; he knew that brown was the colour of novices. So there was somebody younger than Lord Margen here... Somebody else finished their vacation earlier and came to the Guild before the start of the semester. Lorlen wondered if it would be anybody worth meeting, but in fact he didn't have much room to be picky. Anybody would be better than spending this week alone. He hurried up after Lord Margen, hoping that when he would be returning the novice would still be somewhere close. He heard the person stop on the stairs – whoever it was, probably regarded him with interest as well.

They came into a classroom that had to be an alchemy laboratory. It was full of bottles with diversely coloured substances, probes, tubes and beakers of all sorts. Lorlen would have probably liked to stay there for a while just to have a look around, but he was in a rush to find the youngster they had passed on the stairs. He asked if Lord Margen needed him for anything else and got an absent-minded hand wave as an answer. The magician was already engrossed in his activities, checking something in the book that was lying on the desk in front of the room and pouring some bluish liquid into one of the probes. Lorlen resisted the urge to come closer and ask what he was doing and instead run for the door. He jumped down the stairs, taking a few at a time, and still almost running headed for the University entrance, looking around all the time. A few steps from the door he froze in mid step. Indeed, there was a novice in brown robes. He was leaning against one of the entrance columns and therefore Lorlen didn't spot him instantly. His face was winced and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. It was no one else but Fargan.

'See, see... What a surprise' he started with false kindness. 'I come earlier to study and whom do I meet?... Little Lorlen. How nice. Good to see that you have found a suitable job' he laughed loudly. 'Although I didn't know that it was a custom – even in your family – to send kids to be magicians' servants. But, well, I guess times change' he laughed again.

Lorlen felt his face turn bright red. He forgot totally that he was bound to meet Fargan in the Guild. There was a two year difference in age between them, so Fargan was now at a territory he regarded his own and probably felt at home. But to meet him as the first novice in the Guild? That was bad luck, even for Lorlen standards – he always seemed to be prone to get into trouble, but this was really too much. He straightened up and walked out of the University building as naturally as he could. But he knew he wasn't doing a good job at that... But what else could he do? Own up to the fact that he was to stay here? And that Fargan would have another dozen years or more to insult him time after time? He felt Fargan's scornful gaze following him until he turned right towards the Novice Quarters. He finally let out the air he was desperately holding, hoping that Fargan didn't notice where he was heading. Could this get any worse?!

----

The rest of the week has passed uneventful. Lorlen did everything he could to avoid older magicians and novices. While reconsidering the unfortunate meeting with Fargan, Lorlen decided that he actually should have responded more firmly. It was probably due to his overall distress that he was put off his stride. True, Fargan knew the Guild better since he spent already two years here. And Lorlen was alone, without Walin or any other of his friends. But in fact Fargan did not have any of his followers here, either. Of course, he might have some friends among other novices, but in general they should be more sensible that the brainless pack that Fargan gathered before. Lorlen made up his mind not to give in an inch more to Fargan, and to get even with him at the first opportunity.

On the Free Day just before the Acceptance Ceremony he finally went back home after what was supposed to be a reconnaissance of the Guild but turned into one of the most boring weeks of vacation he ever had. But when he came back home, he had to admit that he was probably better off at the Guild than home. The whole house, including its inhabitants, was in a mess, as if a storm had passed through it. Everybody except him seemed overly excited with the coming Ceremony. He didn't get it; they could at least express some regret that he would leave the family house for so long...

The following morning he was woken up at an inhumanely early hour. Before he could eat a decent breakfast he was hurried up; pulled away from the table and subjected to a lot of absolutely useless procedures. Yes, indeed – he had reached the age when he considered being dressed properly and looking good an advantage – especially in feminine company – but why on earth pay so much attention to clothing one day before he would have to cover it with hopelessly mundane robes for... well, the rest of his life? Shit! He wasn't fully aware of it until now, but in fact it was his last moments in normal clothing... He cringed at that thought. Is there any positive side to being a magician?

They arrived at the Guild grounds well in advance. The cart was freshly polished for this occasion, the incal on the door almost shining. There were already some other carts standing in front of the University building. Lorlen noticed quite a crowd of very well dressed families and nervous youngsters. He peeked curiously at what were to become his classmates for the next five years. Most of them were Kyralian, but to his surprise he noticed one Vin boy standing with supposedly his father a little bit away from the rest of the group. Magical potential was rather rare among Vin people so this boy was probably quite surprised to be here. Just as Lorlen himself, he couldn't help thinking. Just as he was considering whether to move closer to the Vin and start a chat, another cart pulled in. Lorlen shifted his gaze to notice a perfectly dressed girl step down gracefully out of the cart; helped by a servant in full livery. Following her a very prim pair moved out – probably the parents. The woman cast a quick disapproving look at the other families gathered before the University gates and her face contorted briefly in disgust. She managed to hide it quickly, put on an artificial smile and followed her daughter who ran hurriedly towards another girl that Lorlen didn't notice before. He briefly looked at the door of the cart, now being closed by the servant – and saw the incal of House Trevian – one of the most powerful in whole Kyralia. He winced and gazed towards the girls. The one of House Trevian threw herself in the arms of a brightly haired girl standing close to the University entrance. The other was accompanied by a single person only – a women too old to be her mother and too ugly to actually even seem related to the blonde. Lorlen noticed that in comparison to the Trevian girl, the other looked pale. Women of House Trevian were known to be strikingly beautiful and this one was no exception. Her hair was thick, rich black in colour and tied high in a fancy bouffant; her features were almost perfect and her white skin was nicely emphasized by a deep violet dress and a set of silver jewellery incrusted with rubies. The blond seemed to be overshadowed when compared with her. Her complexion was darker – her tan contrasted strangely with her light coloured hair; her features were delicate and somehow asymmetrical. After a more thorough look Lorlen noticed that this impression probably stemmed from the fact that one of her eyebrows seemed funnily raised and that her smile started from one lip corner before it spilled on the whole face. She looked a little bit Elyne, but her height and thin posture suggested some Kyralian origins. Maybe she was related to House Trevian somehow – this could explain the heartily welcome by her friend's family - while the girls exchanged hugs, their families started a polite conversation. Even though the Trevian girl was an epitome of beauty, Lorlen couldn't force himself to divert his gaze from her companion. The Elyne was attractive in a subtle way and the look in her eyes revealed intelligence and a sense of humour. She must have felt being observed as she took a quick look around and noticed Lorlen gazing her fixedly. He managed a weak smile and turned abruptly to face the gates that thankfully have just been opened. A young magician in red robes stood in between the doors.

'The Guild welcomes you all; the Acceptance Ceremony will now begin. Please follow me inside in a file, your parents and families will come after you'.

Lorlen didn't get much out of the ensuing ceremony – his thoughts were circulating around the Elyne girl. Whenever he could, he risked a quick peek at her. When the Administrators assistant – Lord Beryl – called her out for the vow, he learned that her name was Keira of Matrian. Her Kyralian friend was Bretta of House Trevian. Lorlen was already inventing a clever plan of how to start a chat with them both on the way out of the Guild Hall, when his name was called out. He came out of the row startled and noticed that all eyes in the huge Hall were focused on him. Sudden dread filled his heart and he felt a large lump in his throat. He managed to stutter out the words of the vow and took the bundle of robes that someone handed him. Only after Lord Beryl motioned him for the second time did he move back to the line. Fortunately, there was only the Vin boy after him, so the Ceremony finished soon after. The Vin was called Meik, but the rest of the names slipped Lorlen's memory. No one claimed guardianship of the freshly admitted novices and so a moment later they were rushed out of the Guild Hall.

Outside there was already a turmoil – all the servants and families were crowding around the carts and moving in a disorganized mass towards the Novices' Quarters. He tried to spot Keira and Bretta in the crowd but they came out earlier and must have already gone to the Quarters. Resigned, he followed his own relatives. He had enough time during the previous week to learn the Guild grounds in and out and most of his stuff was already in, but of course his mother was anxious to make sure everything was perfectly settled for him. Her anxiety somehow transferred to Elia who was buzzing with excitement and babbling about everything she saw in the Guild. He listened with one ear regretting that it wasn't him accompanying one of his brothers to the Guild. He would probably also be happily excited to see the famous Guild grounds from the inside. But it looked totally different from the perspective of the one being left here for good.

He sighed and followed his mother to his room, as they have just reached the Novice Quarters. She cringed disapprovingly noticing the rather modest apartment and started ordering servants around to arrange Lorlen's belongings in a way she deemed suitable. Lorlen watched all this standing in the door and decided it better not to make any comments at the moment – he would simply rearrange everything his way when they all leave. Somebody put a hand on his shoulder, waking him up from his thoughts. He turned half way round and smiled noticing Walin standing at his side.

'I have to say you look as if you were on death row' Walin said laughing. 'Come on, it can't be that bad here'.

'Easy for you to say' Lorlen answered cringing but then brightened up a little. 'I didn't know you were coming to the Ceremony'.

'I couldn't miss the opportunity of watching your mother putting the Guild in order' Walin laughed again nodding his head at the women who were now inspecting the wardrobe.

Lorlen rolled his eyes exchanging meaningful looks with his friends and lowered his voice to a whisper. 'I'll clear it out as soon as they leave'.

'I would if I were you' Walin said, still smiling. They sat on the edge of the bed watching the inspection moving towards the bathroom. Finally Lorlen's mother seemed content with everything and she came to face them.

'Now, I guess it has to do for the moment.' She said giving her work one last glance. 'Later I will order Makan to fetch you some nicer furniture...'

She stopped and looked at the boys.

'Well, we should probably be leaving now' she stopped again as if she wanted to say something more but decided otherwise. 'You two probably want to talk some more, so I won't bother you anymore right now' she sighed.

She kissed Lorlen on both cheeks and headed for the door. 'Take care, honey, and please try not to be too much trouble' she added standing in the door. 'And be ready on the Free Day – it's aunt Laria's birthday and she'll come for dinner. I'll send Makan for you early afternoon so please don't make him wait.' She glanced at him again and pulled Elia behind her. Lorlen's sister waved him goodbye and followed her and the servants out of his room.

Walin sighed relaxed and lay down on the bed, stretching.

'Ah, how nice it would be to have to see your family only on Free Days. Freedom. That'll be great.' He said dreamingly.

'Freedom? Don't be kidding me. It's probably the last place I can get some.' Lorlen cringed. 'I'd even endure aunt Laria for a whole month than stay here one more week.' He sighed. 'It's easy for you to say, you don't have to spend your whole life here.'

'Well, I'll have to take some other job sooner or later and my life will get as boring as yours... You're not the only one.'

'_Later_ is probably the crucial word here' Lorlen noticed sarcastically.

'Doh, cheer up a bit, you'll probably meet some nice people here to share this lifetime torture' Walin straightened up and winked at him.

'Yeah, Fargan for example' Lorlen snorted not noticing the wink. He focused on the bundle of cloth hanging from the chair next to them. 'And I'll have to look like a puppet wearing this damn robes' he added unrolling the bundle with disgust.

'Nah, Fargan is a stupid, little mongrel not worth your concern. I meant rather the feminine company that I noticed you've already spotted' Walin said smiling knowingly. 'That Trevian girl is one good example' he added mischievously noticing Lorlen blush at his words.

'The Trevian girl? No, she's sooo ordinary' Lorlen managed to sound disinterested and dismissive. 'But her friend, well, she's something'.

Walin laughed out loud. 'That's settled then, you take the Elyne blonde and I'm left with the Trevian girl.'

'Actually,' he added thoughtfully after a moment. 'It'd be great to get to know them better, if you know what I mean' he smiled meaningfully at Lorlen. 'I'm throwing a birthday party next month and that could be a nice occasion to invite the girls out. Provided of course you'd prepare the ground for that' he smiled widely again.

Lorlen returned the smile knowingly.

'Now you know what to occupy yourself with during your boring time at the Guild' Walin said noticing the cunning smile in Lorlen's face. He stood up, winking at his friend. 'You have plenty of time up till my birthday, and I count on you not to fail this one.' He grinned. 'Meanwhile, I need to be going. My father is probably already waiting with the cart. I'll see you probably on the Free Day then.'

Lorlen saw his friend to the door. His head was buzzing with different ideas and he couldn't wait to get a chance to talk to Keira and see if they worked out. Reality struck him when he turned around to face his room after the door handle clicked in place. He sighed. For now he'd have to spend probably the whole evening putting his room to order after the tornado that went through it.


	5. Chapter 2

He woke up next morning to the sounds of shouting and running. For a moment he had trouble remembering where he was and what he was doing in this strange room. He looked out of the window and saw the sun already high up. He jumped out of bed realizing where he was and that, apparently, he had overslept. The noises outside his door were probably of novices hurrying up for their classes. He refreshed as quickly as he could, but got stuck when it came to dressing up. He put his undershirt and trousers on and grabbed the brown bundle of robes. He unrolled it and considered the robes for a while. Which side was actually meant to be up?... They seemed to be a simple, large sheet of cloth with two big holes – which were probably where he should put his hands in. They didn't carry any instruction on how to use them, though. He put his hands in for a try and struggled for a while not to suffocate as his head got wrapped in cloth. When he pulled it out and caught breath he noticed that the robes were twisted on his back, which obviously was not how they should be worn. He managed to get out of them, almost tearing the cloth in few places. He took a deep breath and started the battle again, this time taking it slowly, step by step. Finally, he managed to figure out how to put the robes on without getting strangled. He took a look in the mirror to check if everything was ok and couldn't help noticing that they didn't look good on him. Mundane was probably the best word to describe it. He sighed heavily; he would have to get used to it simply. At least they looked similar to what he'd seen on other magicians so he hoped he got the dressing part all right. He tied the robes with a sash, swearing under his breath. Then reminding himself that he was already late, he grabbed a few sheets of paper, a pen and an ink well and hurried out of his room.

He ran out of the Novices' Quarters and headed towards the Foodhall in the University building – for the first time he was grateful that he had already spent a whole week at the Guild, so that he knew exactly where he was going. He heard his stomach rumble and wondered whether he would have time to eat anything. Maybe he would manage at least a small cup of sumi? Surviving up till lunch break with an empty stomach was not a nice perspective but he'd better not come late for his first class. He didn't know exactly how long the classes were meant to last, but even magicians had to eat sometimes, right? And he couldn't risk making a bad impression on the first day – Keira would be there to see it of course. He realized – between one hurried step and another – that she also might be still eating her breakfast. He almost ran into the dining room, but came to a halt at this thought. He tried to put on a more dignified look – a rather difficult task while being out of breath from running – and calmly walked into the Foodhall.

He instantly noticed that he shouldn't have been worried about first impressions here – nobody paid him any attention. In fact, there was almost no one to do this – only a few novices sat at the tables and even these seemed to be gathering to leave. He didn't recognize any of the first-years among them but that was to be expected – on the first day everybody was probably strictly on time. Except him, he noticed sourly. It was naive of him to think Keira would still be there. He took a look around and noticed a group of novices moving towards the other entrance which led to the University hall. They seemed to be in a hurry. Lorlen realized that he should hurry up as well and that there was no chance for a proper breakfast for him. He quickly scanned the tables and noticed a plate of sandwiches still standing on one of them. He grabbed one piece and rushed after the group without further thought. He paced quickly after them, hurriedly eating the sandwich. He concentrated on gulping as fast as possible and only after they had passed two flights of stairs did he realize that he didn't know where they were heading. The group he followed obviously wasn't going to the first-year's class. He stopped and swallowed the last piece of his breakfast, wondering what to do next. A quick scan through the possibilities made him realize that he didn't have much time for any intricate action. He sighed; there was no other way than to ask somebody - and probably make an idiot of himself the very first day. Only an idiot would not check where his first class at the Guild took place... He chose a young magician wearing alchemist's robes, hoping that such a typical young scholar would be more understanding and wouldn't laugh straight in his face.

He didn't laugh. But he was so astonished that Lorlen had to repeat his question twice before he got a coherent answer. He turned on his heel towards where the magician had pointed and paced quickly, followed by a still surprised look and a short laughter. He felt his ears turning red but didn't look back. Only once he turned right into a smaller corridor, as instructed, and when he was sure the mage could no longer see him, did he pick up his pace and run towards his class. He managed to slow down into a normal step just in time – after another turn he saw a group of novices standing before a classroom and recognized some faces from yesterday's Ceremony.

He slowly approached them with as much cool air about him as he could produce after all the morning haze. Some of his classmates cast him quick glances, but they were already divided into smaller groups, chatting quietly, and a lone novice wasn't of much interest to anybody. Great, he'd already missed the first alliance forging – he would have to work hard on the first break to try and join one of the groups, otherwise he would be marked as an outcast. But at least he did make it for the class in time... He looked around and saw Keira and Bretta chatting with some other girls. He considered for a while if not to join their group but before he had a chance to make the decision, he heard the classroom door being open from the inside.

A rather short, stoutly build magician in purple robes stood in the door. He smiled at the group of novices and gestured them inside. The groups slowly dissolved and the novices moved into the classroom one by one, bowing before the alchemist. Lorlen was one of the last to come in so he had a limited choice of where to take a seat. Should he try and join somebody or maybe sit alone?... He noticed Meik was still alone at his desk and almost decided to join him, but finally sat just behind the Vin boy. He wasn't self-assured enough to force his company upon other people on the first day. It would be safer to wait for a better chance and a more relaxed surrounding to make new friendships.

The noise of moving chairs and arranging writing gear slowly died away and their teacher moved towards the centre of the room. He introduced himself as Lord Grekal and announced that he would be their main alchemist teacher for the coming year. However, as he pointed out, it would take some time for them to start their alchemy lectures as they first needed to gain control of their magical powers. Lorlen listened to his talk quite interested. For all these time he knew he had some potential but he never really stopped to wonder on how he is supposed to use it and why he doesn't yet have any access to it. In fact, it seemed that the magicians that checked him two years earlier could sense something – some part of Lorlen – that he himself didn't even feel. He hadn't pondered about it before as he was set to avoid becoming a magician, but now it seemed strange to him and a bit unfair. He hoped this would change soon. Indeed, Lord Grekal said that they would gain the first level of control – that is the access to their power – the very same day, and the next level – the ability to control its flow – within the next few days or weeks. Before that happens, they would only have theoretical classes. Lorlen thought that the alchemist would show them how to make use of their potential straight away, but to his dismay Lord Grekal moved on to explain to them how important the control and the knowledge about magic uses was. Lorlen tried to listen carefully to what the magician said, but after a while he could hardly conceal a yawn. Of course, it was all important, but a few words about it would be just enough – everything he talked about was quite obvious. Why dwell on it for so long? So instead of listening to the boring lecture he started observing his classmates. He wondered who of them would be worth to get to know closer... Who would be the most diligent student? Who would be the class' clown? Throughout his school experience, Lorlen was a rather good pupil and managed with good marks, but he was no star. He was never too keen on any particular subject either and he often relied on the help of his friends when it came to preparing for exams. Who of these new classmates would prove to be good company for learning together and who would be the best to party with? He cast quick glances around and observed how the novices reacted to Lord Grekal's words.

Meik seemed to be in awe. Being in the Guild was probably the best thing that could happen to him. He looked as if he was devouring every word that was spoken. Lorlen didn't regret now not joining him for the class. At the Ceremony, the Vin got his attention as he stood out from the group due to his foreign looks; but he could either prove to be an interesting company or a boring swot.

Lorlen spotted Keira a few seats ahead of the Vin. She was, of course, sitting with Bretta. The girls seemed to be following the lecture, but he could notice them exchanging quiet comments from time to time. Good that they had some sense of criticism over what was spoken and taught, he marked. It only strengthened his will to get to know them closer.

He cast a look to the side, as he felt being observed. He saw a ginger haired, chubby boy of Elyne looks staring at him. He saw him smile knowingly, his head slightly tilted to one side. It seemed Lorlen was not the only one observing the class. He returned the smile, deciding that it was probably worth to get to know this one better, too.

A change in the voice that filled the classroom caught his attention and he was diverted from his quiet observations. Lord Grekal had just finished his preaching and was obviously ready to teach them some practical tricks. To Lorlen surprise, however, it occurred that it was not the alchemist who would teach them control. It seemed each of them got a private teacher and a separate room for this part of magical education. Lorlen stood up, leaving all his belongings on the desk and followed the other novices out of the classroom, curious as to how it really felt to be a magician.

----

He was surprised to find _this _within himself. He couldn't help a smile filling his face. He delicately _touched_ on the light that was hidden in him. It responded spilling over slightly but still remained constrained in an unevenly shaped bubble. It looked a bit like a very thick liquid, opalescent with many different shades and colours. Somehow the simple fact of being able to _see_, _touch_ and make it _respond_ made him feel elated and at the same time peaceful. It now seemed strange to him he was unaware of it for all his life.

Lady Zurla – his young Warrior teacher – interrupted this state of delight pressing her hand harder on his temples and Lorlen turned with annoyance to her voice that was ringing in his head.

'-Now, try to pick a small fraction of your power, like _this_, only carefully. It might take some…' Lorlen followed her example and delicately _touched_ his power, and felt incredibly happy when it responded again shining a bit brighter. He embraced a small chunk of it and parted it from the source. It was easy.

'-...training. Oh, ok,' Zurla's voice sounded a bit surprised. '-Now, try to dissipate it _outside_ your body, so that you raise the temperature a bit – like _this_. You should feel a bit warmer afterwards – it's a very practical ability that you'll soon find indispensable. But be careful.'

He followed her suit and indeed felt a bit warmer. He caught himself at the thought that he actually was beginning to like the idea of being a magician. How about making it even warmer? Before Lady Zurla could comment on his last achievement, he quickly grabbed a much larger chunk of his power and instantly released it into warmth.

'-Carefully!' Zurla's scream in his head ringed alongside his own – that he quite literally let out. He opened his eyes and cringed in pain. One of his hands was all red and prickled with pain. His robes on one side looked smoked; he could also smell burnt hair. He touched his face and flinched when he noticed it was all covered in soot from the burnt clothes.

'Are you out of your mind?!' Lady Zurla's voice was furious. 'Never again do anything without my instruction!'

Her eyes were throwing thunders. He looked down embarrassed. Not a good start... He cringed again when she touched his burnt hand. But soon he felt the pain easing away and looked surprised at the disappearing blisters.

'How did you do that?' he asked, still amazed.

'This is basic healing magic, you'll learn about it later. After you master control of course. Especially control over your temper' she said sarcastically. 'Now, go to the classroom and pick your things – it's the end of the morning class for you. Go change and head to Lady Paria. You can find her in the Healing Quarters. She will heal it better than I can. I'll see you in the afternoon'.

He stood up and went for his stuff. When he entered the classroom, there were some novices already there, resting. Lord Grekal was nowhere to be seen and so the novices sat in relaxed groups, chatting to each other. All eyes turned to him when he entered and followed him as he hesitated and then slowly moved towards his desk. Some of his classmates were gazing him and his burnt clothes with curiosity but some others were obviously making fun of it. He could see a scornful smile on the lips of one of the novices – a black haired boy of typical Kyralian features. The boy lowered his head and still looking at Lorlen whispered something to Keira who happened to be seated next to him. She giggled, just like the other two girls sitting in front of them.

'_What a stupid prick!_' Lorlen gritted his teeth in helpless anger. He'd love to turn on his heel and go out, but his things were unfortunately two rows back from the clearly amused group. He passed them on the way to his desk looking straight ahead. He managed to pick up his papers and writing gear with just a small cringe of pain from the still hurting hand. He went out without a single look at his classmates and headed for the Healing Quarters.

He arrived there a few minutes later after a rather shameful walk through the Guild grounds. Everybody he met on the way looked at him with surprise or badly concealed amusement. He probably provided a nice topic for morning talks. He could clearly see it in his mind – a first-year novice burning his hand while trying to learn control – a funny subject for the Guild gossipers. He clenched his teeth and tried not to look into any of the faces he passed. He hoped the magicians at the Healing Quarters would at least treat him more seriously.

Unfortunately, all the healers were busy with patients and his 'minor injury' – as Lady Paria called it – had to wait. He sat in the waiting room rethinking what has happened. Next time he would have to be more careful. If there was any next time. At that moment he wished more than ever that he could just run away from the Guild and pick up just any other career; even help his father and Perryl with the family business. Anything would be better than making a fool of himself here. He couldn't help gritting his teeth again when the image of the other novices in the classroom entered his mind. He tried to push it away but it kept coming back. He could now forget about making a good first impression on Keira. It will take ages to change it. Maybe if it wasn't for this scornful asshole – whose name he didn't even recall –making fun of him, Keira would have felt sorry for him; maybe he could tell her how it happened and so on. That brainless prick probably didn't even manage to get hold of his power at all and could only ridicule others.

----

All the waiting, healing and changing robes took him all midday. It was already past lunch time when he picked up his pen and ink and headed for the afternoon classes. He knew he was probably late again, but he couldn't help it this time. He was also hungry again; he didn't have much luck so far in trying out the Guild's cuisine. He sighed resigned and jumped up the last few steps to get to the second floor of the University building. When he reached the classroom he noticed that a few novices were moving towards the room, looking tired. The afternoon control learning sessions have probably already started. It was actually an advantage – Lorlen moved straight to Lady Zurla's room and this way avoided making another big entrance to the classroom.

The first afternoon session was a total fiasco. He was tired, hungry and distressed after the morning events and he could barely concentrate. He could hardly manage to separate a small chunk of his power without letting it dissipate before even going out of his body. After a few rather pathetic attempts Zurla sent him to the classroom for a rest. He entered it disappointed and he knew he was making no good impression again. Fortunately, all the other students seemed tired as well and didn't seem to pay him much attention. He noticed the ginger Elyne novice that he spotted earlier cast him a quick smile. Lorlen was really grateful for this little support. He sat at the first free desk and ventured a look around. He instantly saw that the Kyralian boy he called brainless was already there. Lorlen couldn't stop awe entering his gaze when he saw what the novice was doing. He had a large blue ball in front of him and he seemed to be fixing his stare on it. For a while nothing happened, but then Lorlen noticed that the ball slowly changed colour from dark blue into violet and then red. Lord Grekal, who was standing close, nodded approvingly. The Kyralian student breathed out heavily; the ball was again becoming blue. Then, as the novice looked at it again, the whole process started anew; this time the colours changed a little bit faster.

'_What is he doing with that ball?_' Lorlen wondered. This was obviously some more advanced task and it meant he already got enough control of his powers. How did he manage it so quickly?! Lorlen gritted his teeth. The boy seemed engrossed in his activity, not noticing that he was observed – not only by Lorlen but by most of the novices in the classroom. Keira included. She was again sitting close to him and she was clearly in awe, just like the other students. Lorlen cringed. This was going the wrong way altogether. No way would this arrogant prick be better than him! He closed his eyes, trying to push away all the troubling thoughts and to relax as much as possible. Barely five minutes have passed when he couldn't stand it any longer. He stood up and went for another session with Lady Zurla, determined not to go back until he gets hold of his power.

The first time he almost got burnt again. He wanted to acquire control so badly that he tried too hard and released too much power. But with time passing he could feel he was getting more and more subtlety. Some tries were of course worse, some better, but all in all he knew he was making constant improvement. He also felt better contact with his magic, he was able to _sense_ it more fully; it seemed to him now almost like it was his companion for all his life. But he also felt that all this training was extremely tiresome. He breathed out heavily. Almost half an hour of the session had already passed and he still wasn't fully satisfied with himself. Lady Zurla looked at him with concern and suggested to end the lesson for the day. He only shook his head and concentrated more.

Another half an hour passed. Lorlen could feel his head aching; sweat glistened on his face but he knew the last attempts were really good. It was the tenth time in row that he didn't make any errors. He noticed with satisfaction that he could now release as much or as little power as he wished as heat; raising the temperature around himself as much or as little as he wanted. He also managed - without Lady Zurla's help or example – to _lower_ the temperature the way he liked. He was ready for some new task and asked Zurla for one. She looked at him for a longer while; scanning his face as if she tried to read something from it. Lorlen was curious as to what has caused this sudden interest but he didn't ask and instead repeated his request for a new assignment. Zurla smiled at him sympathetically.

'This is all from me. I have to say we end our lessons rather quicker than I'd expected, but you've learned everything I was to teach you. Go to the classroom and ask your teacher for new tasks. It was nice working with you, Lorlen.' She smiled again gesturing him towards the door. Just as he was to leave, she added: 'But please, try not to be too hasty with your magic. It can't be any good'.

Lorlen looked back and noticed her grinning mischievously.

'I will try' he promised with a smile.

He returned to the classroom feeling tired but proud. He was so satisfied with himself that he almost forgot the reason for his intensive training. But it all came back to him when he entered the room. Almost all novices were there, some reading books, some chatting, others just looking bored. It seemed they were all waiting only for the other students to return from their sessions. Lorlen cast a quick look at the Kyralian boy – he had stopped his play with the ball and was now simply staring through the window. Lorlen smiled to himself and went straight to Lord Grekal, who was rather absent-mindly scribbling something at his desk.

'Lady Zurla has sent me back for a new task; she said we have already finished her lessons' Lorlen said, bowing before the teacher.

Lord Grekal looked up at him with surprise. He cast a quick glance at the clock on his desk and around the classroom then looked at Lorlen again. Finally, he just shrugged and reached for a box that stood close to him. Just as Lorlen expected, he retrieved a blue ball from it.

'This ball is filled with a temperature sensitive liquid' he explained. 'The task is to heat the liquid slowly. If you do it properly the liquid will change colour, but if you do it too quickly, the liquid will boil and no effect will be seen'.

Lord Grekal moved his gaze from the ball to Lorlen.

'If you did indeed master control already, you should be able to do that...' he sounded sceptical '...without burning yourself' he added mockingly.

Lorlen didn't respond to that but his opinion on Lord Grekal that was quite high after the morning class fell down tumbling after the last comment. Somebody must have told him about the morning events and he clearly found it amusing. Lorlen took the ball without a word and went to his desk.

It didn't take him much time. The first try wasn't too successful as he was overly cautious not to release too much power. Instead of going red the ball changed into darker shade of blue but then came back to the original colour as he wasn't heating it quickly enough. He tried again, and he managed to keep it dark blue for longer. Lord Grekal who was pacing along the classroom stopped by Lorlen's desk for a while to observe him. Lorlen felt after that attempt that he knew already how much power was needed. He reached for his magic and steadily released some of it into the ball. It changed colour smoothly into bright red, just as he expected. Lorlen looked up to notice Lord Grekal was still standing next to him, looking at the ball with astonishment. He raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded his head at Lorlen. Then he looked up quickly at the classroom noticing that all the novices came back from their individual lessons. He announced the class over.

Lorlen smiled to himself and started to gather his things. While he was standing up, he noticed the Kyralian novice looking at him with a mysterious smile. He couldn't help his own lips twist into a smile full of satisfaction. He was already preparing to leave, when he heard somebody slow down while passing his desk towards the door. He looked up to notice the Kyralian.

'See you tomorrow, Mr. Burnt Hand' he said, the corner of his lip curled up again in a provocative smile.

Lorlen didn't respond, he simply looked down and picked up his belongings. But his insides were burning with rage at this new challenge. If that dumbass wanted rivalry, he will get it.


	6. Chapter 3

'...important not to forget about the possible dangerous effects of mixing the two substances. Who will tell me what they are?' the monotonous voice that filled the classroom suddenly fell silent. Lorlen's heart skipped. He shifted his gaze from outside the window onto his desk and started scribbling something in his notepad, trying to look as if he was extremely busy taking notes. He had no idea what was the correct answer. In fact, he didn't even know what the question was. The lecture was so boring he stopped paying attention long time ago.

'Hmmm?...' the voice continued questioningly. The atmosphere in the classroom became tense. Lorlen didn't dare look up to see where Lord Margen was gazing in fear that their looks might cross and that he would be called out to answer the question. 'Mikkel? Tell us please what you have read about mixing mercury and zinc.'

Lorlen let out his breath with relief but then cast a concerned look at his friend. Mikkel gulped audibly and started standing up. He pushed the chair back and gathered himself up slowly to gain more time, throwing panicked looks at Lorlen. Lorlen stopped scribbling, his thoughts racing. What did that scoundrel have in mind? His pen scratched the paper.

'_Extreme heating? Explosion maybe?'_ he wrote in large letters so that Mikkel could easily read them while standing up.

'Well,…' Mikkel started in a shaky voice, reading Lorlen's writing. 'I suppose it might lead to overheating' he ventured more boldly, looking up at their teacher.

'You suppose?' Margen started in maliciously soft tone, the tip of his pointed beard shaking slightly.

'So you _suppose _that it might cause overheating, huh?' The alchemist stopped suddenly, looking sternly at Mikkel, his voice becoming ice cold. Lorlen followed the movement of his beard like hypnotized. Tip-tap. Halt. Shouldn't he be more worried? He bizarrely felt as if he was observing the whole scene from a distance.

'_I suppose_ you should stop supposing and finally start learning!' at the end the alchemist was almost screaming. He looked at the novice for a longer while with disgust. The beard vibrated as if it, too, was disgusted.

'It's the end for today. For tomorrow's lecture read the first five chapters of _Modern alchemy _by Lord Prokyl' Margen finally spoke. 'And you young man…' he added pointing a foreboding finger at Mikkel, who was now inspecting the floor with determination worthy of a better cause 'will prepare a 5 page essay on the side effects of mixing mercury and zinc. Now, be gone you ungrateful lot.'

Lorlen finally woke up. He quickly trashed his writing gear and books into his case and got up. The rest of the class gathered quickly as well and left the room in a hurry. Nobody liked to be in vicinity of Lord Margen when he was in one of his bad moods. Lorlen followed Mikkel out, squeezing through the door together with other novices.

'Five chapters? That must be well over two hundred pages!' Mikkel moaned, once outside the classroom in the safety of the crowd of novices. 'And that damned essay… I guess I have something to do tonight!' he complained in a weepy voice.

Lorlen only shrugged his shoulders in reply. He felt pity for his friend but there was nothing he could do to help him. It could just as well be himself next time. Alchemy was something that didn't interest him in the slightest, just as it didn't interest Mikkel. Neither of them spent much time preparing for the classes, even after Lord Margen took them over. Lord Grekal left Kyralia due to family reasons a weak after the semester had started and the fresh novices were handed over to Margen who normally only taught third year novices and older. Since that time alchemy lessons became a nightmare. Lorlen however decided not to get bothered by that and slipped through the lectures with as little effort and time spent on preparing as possible. It of course meant he would get some additional assignments from time to time when caught unprepared, but he decided it was better than learning on a regular basis. Mikkel followed his example and so the lectures with Lord Margen became something of a gamble for them. This time it was the Elyne who lost.

'Overheating? Where did you get that from?' a voice from behind inquired contemptuously. It was Meik, who happened to come out of the class just after them. As it was the lunch break, they soon found themselves in a stream of young magicians and novices heading for the Food Hall.

'Don't you ever read the assignments?' the Vin continued mockingly. He got twin unwelcome, apprehensive gazes so he just shrugged and moved forward to join another group. Meik was useful when it came to borrowing notes, but otherwise he was boring as hell and so he was rather unpopular among the first years.

'And tomorrow's a test in the anatomy class…' Mikkel started again when the Vin was out of hearing distance. His chubby face was now contorted in pain, which made him look like some naughty cherub. Lorlen shrugged again, smiling at the faces Mikkel pulled.

'Yeah, I know, you probably know everything already. You seem to actually enjoy reading about guts' the Elyne cringed in disgust looking even funnier.

Lorlen opened the door to the Food Hall letting them both in. They snatched a tray each and moved to the end of the queue so that they could choose their meals. Mikkel was right. Lorlen did indeed like most of the healing classes. He wouldn't own up to it as healing generally was thought to be a girls' thing, but since his first control learning sessions – when he burnt his hand and got healed – he was fascinated by the healing process. Even if it meant learning by heart all of the bones of the human body… He was willing to make some sacrifices in order to master this intricate art. Unfortunately, most of the boys – if not all of them – held healing in high disregard, so he had no one to share this fascination with. And so he never talked openly about his interest in fear of being scorned and instead pretended to be fascinated by warrior skills – which seemed to him rather dull and generally useless. But he forced himself to try and excel at them so that he could quietly follow his healing interests without being called girlish. Just as he put the last plate on his tray and turned to follow Mikkel to a table, the second reason for his diligence in preparing for warrior classes passed him by and then took a seat at the table Mikkel has just reached. Lorlen pressed his lips tightly, his gaze cold as ice and turned on his heal to take a seat at the next table. He could notice in the corner of his eye that Akkarin followed his retreat with a provocative stare, his lips twisted into a falsely innocent smile again. He always seemed amused by their rivalry, which annoyed Lorlen most of all. He sat with his back turned on Akkarin and started lazily moving his plates from the tray onto the table, purposefully ignoring the stare fixed on his back and waiting for Mikkel to join him. The Elyne appeared a second later, putting his tray heavily on the table and rolling his eyes.

'Could you stop this silly thing for a change?' he moaned. 'I could really use some company; everybody's sitting at _that _table there. Do we have to sit alone just because you two play some silly games like a couple on their first date?!'

Lorlen ignored the complaints, deliberately taking it long to perfectly arrange the plates and cutlery in front of him. Mikkel only sighed, sat down with a thud and started his pudding.

'After lunch we have warrior skills class.' He finally said with his mouth full. 'I hope you both stun, power and fire-strike yourself to death, so from tomorrow on I can finally eat my lunch with the rest of the guys without worrying about your stupid war' he finished mischievously.

'Yeah, and you could also finally take the anatomy test alone' Lorlen retorted chewing on his meat.

Mikkel sighed. 'You're unbearable. What is it exactly between you two? I don't get, you'll only get yourself in trouble.'

'He started it.' Lorlen shrugged, poking some pitiful looking veggies with his fork. 'I'm only responding to his provocations; you don't expect me to give in that easily, do you?' he asked not even looking at Mikkel. He decided finally that he ate everything that was edible from the main course and moved on to the dessert. Mikkel only shook his head in answer.

Lorlen sighed inaudibly. However much he wanted to look relaxed and laid back he couldn't help feeling dreadful at the thought of the coming class. Roughly after two weeks of the semester all the novices mastered control and practical classes begun. For Lorlen those first two weeks were mostly taken up by reading - the students that managed to get hold of their power earlier were given some literature to occupy themselves with while others still practiced mastering control. For two weeks reading was the only practical task that intervened with boring theoretical lectures. But the last three weeks were finally filled with practice. And most of the boys buzzed about the warrior classes. Although for now they only practiced shielding and learned about history battles, this was the only class that everybody seemed to wait for with anticipation. Lorlen found them helplessly boring. But he had reasons not to dismiss them just like he did with alchemy classes... Akkarin apparently excelled at warrior skills. Lorlen soon realized that keeping up with him was not going to be a piece of cake. While in the other disciplines they went head in head – with Lorlen slightly leading in healing – in warrior classes Lorlen struggled to keep pace with his foe. History was easy – he had a good memory and with enough time he was able to prepare perfectly. But with practical skills it was different. Somehow Akkarin seemed ready for every task Lord Balkan invented. He intuitively followed the instructions of their teacher and was able to reproduce whatever shield was needed at almost the first try. As if he knew in advance what exercises would be practiced on each lesson. Lorlen, on the other hand, struggled every time. He spent a lot of time practicing but he could only do as much as try and not let himself be outpaced too much. He would master all novelties perfectly for the next class, but then again he would be struck with Akkarin's outstanding performance. And today he didn't even feel like trying to keep pace with him… He spent whole evening studying for tomorrow's anatomy test; he was tired and found it hard to concentrate. But he knew that if he didn't pay attention he wouldn't be able to remember all of today's material and then practice enough for the next lesson. And he couldn't stand being so much behind his rival.

As if in answer to his thoughts he felt someone staring at his back again. He cast a look to the side to notice that Akkarin has just finished with his meal and was now moving towards the door with their other classmates. When their eyes met, Akkarin smiled provocatively again. Lorlen tensed and immediately turned his gaze away. Did this mean Akkarin has got some new surprises for him? His smile didn't bode well for sure… Lorlen sipped the last few drops of his sumi and turned his attention back to Mikkel who was babbling all this time, spitting complaint after complaint between each chunk of his meal.

'If I knew being a magician would mean going through alchemy classes with Margen I would have never agreed on coming here' he ended his tirade with a martyred look and a theatrically deep sigh.

Lorlen smiled again at his friend but motioned him to get up; it was high time they set off towards the classroom. Mikkel was a nice person to have around – always cheerful and ready to laugh off any trouble. Since he noticed Mikkel on their first class – or rather they noticed each other – they tended to hang out together. Lorlen quickly noticed that underneath the veil of everyday cheerfulness Mikkel was in fact a very observant and sharp-minded person. He had an incredible social intuition which helped him – and Lorlen as well – get into any even seemingly closed group. Mikkel himself tended not to stick for long with any particular circle, but instead circulated between them and was on good terms with everybody. The only person that he seemed to stick to for longer was Lorlen. Some of the general positive attitude Mikkel generated spilled onto Lorlen and thanks to it he also was easily accepted and had no trouble making friends with anybody. Lorlen valued Mikkel's company a lot – not only because of the advantages that came with it – but mostly because of his mixture of light-heartedness and seriousness. Mikkel instinctively knew when it was time to ridicule troubles and when they needed to be seriously tackled. Lorlen quickly learned that he could depend and count on Mikkel whenever he needed help or support. Still, Mikkel was no Walin…

Lorlen didn't have a single chance to meet his best friend since the day of the Acceptance Ceremony. Walin's father had some merchant business abroad and decided that it was time for his son to get closely involved in it. They left Kyralia shortly after the semester at the Guild started. For these five long weeks Lorlen didn't exchange a single word with Walin and he missed him badly. He only managed to send his best wishes through Velia when Walin's birthday passed. The parting with his friend seemed to mark even more profoundly the fact that some period of his life has ended and a new part begun – without him really making any decisions. It left an intangible feeling of longing in his heart that he couldn't quite grasp. Whenever he tried to concentrate and come to terms with it, it seemed to evaporate in everyday's haste. But it haunted him whenever he had a spare moment to think. Just like now... He followed Mikkel through the corridors of the University, but his mind was constantly wandering; trying to memorize –like some sacred treasure – the last few weeks of vacation that they spent together with Walin. He sighed again. It was a bad day simply. He was tired, resigned and it made him angry. And the thought of another race with Akkarin in just a few minutes didn't make him feel better. He gritted his teeth in helpless irritation. If it wasn't for that stupid prick, studying at the Guild wouldn't be as bad as he previously thought.

They reached the classroom just in time; all of the class was already gathered before the entrance. Lorlen looked at the clock hanging on the wall – it seemed that Lord Balkan was late. He frowned surprised but quickly cheered up at the thought that the warrior class will be shorter.

'Ha, it seems that we won't have to repeat all of the Sachakan battles again. If Balkan is ten more minutes late, we will probably move to shielding straight away!' a cheerful voice greeted them when they joined the waiting group. It was Kalin, a Kyralian novice and another fan of warrior classes.

'Unless he decides to make the class longer… It's our last today' Lorlen remarked, all happiness draining from his voice. He noticed in the corner of his eye their other classmates turning around to listen on the conversation. Akkarin was among them.

'Didn't he say two days ago that today the lecture would be shorter?' Bretta said; a deep frown on her pretty face. 'Isn't today the day of Guild Meet? He probably has to leave earlier.'

Lorlen moved a few steps aside to let the others join their circle and not to stand with his back on anybody.

'Yeah, that's what he said.' Meik confirmed with assurance.

'Pity… why does it have to be Lord Balkan's class?' Kalin sounded truly saddened. 'Why can't it be that stupid alchemy lecture that gets shortened because of the Meets?

'Yeah, that's a real pity…' Akkarin added thoughtfully. 'I hoped today we would move to practicing some of the tricky shields… or maybe even the strikes?'

'Oh, practicing? I bet you got them all perfected by now. You wouldn't allow any task surprise you, would you?' Lorlen sniggered half-jokingly. He didn't think much of it; the words simply slipped his mouth before he could stop them.

Akkarin turned to face him and studied his face for a while with not as much anger as curiosity. Lorlen had trouble holding his gaze but just as he was to give in and look down, Akkarin simply shrugged and turned away.

'I bet you have a whole detailed plan of our warrior classes in that diary of yours' Lorlen went on more bluntly encouraged by Akkarin's lack of response. Some part of his mind – the hidden backseat driver that observed his own behaviour – couldn't believe that he really was saying what he was. It probably wasn't the best idea to confront Akkarin in such a way...

Akkarin turned abruptly to face him.

'My diary is no business of yours' he said in ice-cold voice.

'Sure, it's not my business; I wouldn't even want to read about your pathetic secrets' Lorlen laughed mockingly again. His inner voice protested one more time but he didn't listen. True, he had a bad day altogether and probably was simply taking it out on his rival, but wasn't it nice to finally hit his weak spot? He couldn't help a crooked smile brightening his face. He noticed all their classmates tensed, cautiously observing the confrontation. He moved his foot away, finally noticing that Mikkel was stepping on his toes for quite a while.

'At least I have got some secrets' Akkarin's voice could now freeze boiling water. 'And I bet no amount of notes would help _you_ prepare for warrior classes.'

Lorlen felt blood rushing into his head. All the negative emotions that gathered inside him all day long finally overflew; all the animosity towards Akkarin he so far kept tamed broke through. Before he could control himself or before anybody could react, he gathered all strength he had and punched Akkarin straight in the face. He felt something crush under his fist and noticed with strange satisfaction the blood that flushed from Akkarin's nose. Years of fighting with Fargan's pack finally paid off. Akkarin flinched awkwardly and Lorlen smiled to himself – his enemy apparently didn't have any experience in fist fights; he exposed himself badly. Lorlen struck again. And let out a gasp of pain. He felt as if he hit a wall. His fingers hurt badly, they were probably broken. He turned in anger and his eyes widened in surprise. Akkarin has put on a shield! Lorlen frowned and quickly started producing his own, but he was far less skilled at it. Before he managed to widen it so that it didn't touch his body, he felt a strong thrust hitting him straight in the chest. He shrieked in shock and pain as he crushed against a wall. As if through a mist he heard somebody scream in vicinity. He cast a quick look sideways – the circle of novices that surrounded them moved a few steps backward, all staring in shock at their fight. Bretta covered her mouth with a hand, her face full of horror.

Lorlen gathered himself again and looked furiously towards Akkarin. He noticed a faint shadow of concern on his face, but it quickly changed into a provocative smile. The bastard probably used magic to strike him! How did he manage to do that?! They didn't even start learning about offensive strikes! Lorlen quickly put on a shield not to let himself be caught unprepared again. Thankfully Akkarin seemed satisfied with himself and did not strike again. He probably didn't expect retaliation either. But Lorlen was mad and the fury that burned in him overshadowed all the pain from his injuries – along with most of his common sense. He instinctively turned this anger into a strike and sent it towards his rival. Akkarin looked at him truly shocked – a priceless sight for Lorlen. His shield flickered and before he managed to strengthen it again, another strike hit it, destroying it completely and sending him backwards. Lorlen smiled maliciously. But not for long. A second later his shield faltered under Akkarin's strikes and he felt being smeared on the wall again. He tried to get himself together before another strike hit him, but he was unable to. No strike came flying towards him either. He shook his head to steady his sight and looked up.

'What on earth is going on here?!' Lord Balkan was furious. He was running towards them; his eyes throwing thunders and robes flapping madly around his figure. Lorlen tried to move away in an instinctive attempt to escape. No effect. He noticed Akkarin struggling just like he did against some invisible force holding him in place. Then he stopped, just like Lorlen. He moved his hand along his face and managed to stop some of the blood flowing from his nose. Lorlen smiled with satisfaction noticing these half-successful trials of using healing magic. He ostentatiously touched his own face healing his own nose instantly. He didn't try fixing his broken fingers though, it was too difficult and he was afraid to make it worse. His satisfaction didn't last long, however. The smile waned from his face the moment Lord Balkan came to a halt right between them. The warrior quickly looked around scanning the whole scene and then turned towards the other novices, now crowded in a terrified group a few steps aside.

'You all, go into the classroom and read the chapters 3 through 8 of the _Sachakan battles_. And you two,' he added facing Akkarin and Lorlen, his voice now filled with cold fury 'You two, follow me to the Director's office.'


	7. Chapter 4

**Yes, I know, it's been a long time. But, hey, here it is – an update! At least it's long, so you will be occupied for some time ;) Enjoy!**

**---**

A single ray of sunlight passed through the window, sending sparkles through the shining surface of the desk. Lorlen looked up from the varnish he was trying to scrub clean and peeked through the window. The clouds have become thinner and the sun finally shone through. He could still make out the faint sound of raindrops falling down from tree leaves – the leftovers from a storm that has just passed away. A sudden sparkle of sunlight reflected off the wet window glass and bent like on a prism, producing a rainbow of colours. Lorlen sighed. Days full of sunshine were long gone – the autumn was getting closer and closer – and a clear up like this made him wish he could simply go out and spend some time enjoying fresh air. Well, it wouldn't happen for him until tomorrow. Few more hours and he'll be free to enjoy the last days of summer. He returned to his work, rubbing away the remains of some unsuccessful alchemy class experiment from the desk. He gave it a few final scrubs and moved on to the next table. Two more desks and he'll be finished with this row, leaving only one more for him. By some unspoken agreement he always cleaned the two leftmost rows with Akkarin taking care of the right ones. Then he would move on to the next classroom – the final one for today. That one should be simple and quick – it was a lecture hall with only ink stains to clean and some tidying up to do. Maybe he'll make it in time to have some time for an evening walk? He cast a sideways glance at Akkarin to check how far the other has gotten with his part. They had to report – together – to Lord Balkan each day after they'd finished. There was no point in hurrying up and finishing before the other. Unless he wanted to help Akkarin do his part – which of course he had no intention of doing. He quickly counted the desks in the middle row deciding that Akkarin was only slightly behind him with the job. There was still a chance for a quite decent evening – at least by his current standards.

For the past month or so he had had barely a few moments of free time. After classes he would only have half an hour to eat dinner before he was meant to report and begin his daily chores. He quickly learned that the Guild lecturing rooms were many and huge as well. There was also no way to do the job superficially as Lord Balkan made them walk through each classroom together and checked that everything was properly cleaned. At first Lorlen hoped that a person of his position would quickly get bored with this kind of checkups and give up on them, but that was clearly not the case. He seemed overly diligent at this job – maybe he felt personally guilty for coming late on that doomsday and allowing their outburst on his own class? Anyway, the whole procedure lasted usually till early evening, leaving them a little time for doing homework and preparing for next day's classes. Only rarely did they finish earlier and even more rarely had they little homework to do as well so in general Lorlen had no free time at all. Still, it was made clear to them that the punishment was in fact the least severe possible. Director Jerrik was opting to throw them out of the Guild instantly but the Higher Magicians decided otherwise, acknowledging that it was their first semester and that they did not yet fully comprehend the Guild's regulations. However, they were warned that a single act against the rules by any of them will guarantee them both an instant expulsion. This left them in check. Not only had they been forced to be overly cautious with their own behaviour but they also had to watch and control the other. At the beginning Lorlen thought with satisfaction that this setting will make it easier not only for him to leave the damned Guild but also to take revenge on Akkarin – who plainly seemed more interested in becoming a magician. But then he thought better of it. There was a difference between leaving the Guild – or even escaping – and being thrown out... And so he had no choice but to spend every day in the sole company of his rival, doing the most tedious and dull tasks he could imagine and counting the days till the end of their punishment.

In the meantime their classmates were forming a more cohesive group with each day passing; enjoying their free time together, and engulfing in different activities one after another, making Lorlen even more envious of their freedom. At first it was the races – and the gambling that it entailed; after some weeks it changed into supposedly enthralling trips into the Guild's forest and discoveries of different places within it. Finally, the hit of the last week was Corier. A simple strategy game – involving a bit of dexterity as well – that was played on the lawns of Guild gardens, with three to five players. Different teams formed, with followers and fans and of course a ranking that was introduced instantly. The single time Lorlen managed to join the others playing, he discovered he liked the game a lot and that he had a knack for it. On lonely afternoons (Akkarin did not count as company...) he would wish that he was out playing with the group and imagined himself coming to the top of the ranks. Maybe today they would still be playing when they finish their work? He quickly recalled that there was little to prepare for the next day, so maybe there was indeed a chance?... The hope made him begin working more fervently. He missed the simple pleasure of going out, of playing, and most of all of interacting with somebody. The only social contacts he had for the past weeks were hushed conversation with Mikkel during classes and reserved talks during lunch breaks. Somehow everybody became apprehensive towards him after that unfortunate day of his fight with Akkarin. Mikkel was a great support at the beginning, but now even he seemed to be distant – no wonder, as the two outcasts did not have much chance to interact with anybody. As for the others – the initial apprehension grew stronger and stronger with the time passing and with the little contact he had with the group and now it almost verged on fear. Lorlen tried to understand what has caused that but he couldn't quite grasp it. It wasn't solely because of the wrongdoing and rule-breaking. Others – especially those gambling on the races or playing truant from classes – were also breaking the rules, more or less openly. Maybe only Meik was absolutely clean of fault. So that could not be the reason. They couldn't also be so afraid of his powers, right? True, they both have used magic that they were not supposed to know at that stage, but surely it happened sometimes that some students learned faster than others. They couldn't possibly be the only ones?... Besides, everybody was bound to learn all that fighting stuff anyway – and pretty soon as well – so they shouldn't feel so afraid. But this reasoning has only led him to a point where he couldn't find any explanation for their alienation. The only positive side to it was that Akkarin suffered from it as well. Maybe a little less, as everybody still looked up to him with respect – even if edging on fear, but he wasn't welcome in the group just the same. However, he seemed far less concerned with it than Lorlen. Lorlen squinted sideways again to look at the other boy. If he was bothered by anything, he definitely didn't let it out. Well, Lorlen probably wasn't a person to hear it from him in any case. They were ignoring each other for the whole time – Lorlen promised himself he wouldn't exchange a single word with his rival and never let himself be provoked; it seemed to him it could only cause trouble. He was surprised however that Akkarin didn't seem to hold any grudge against him, he looked and behaved totally indifferent. Lorlen imagined that if he was in his position he would be mad and try at least to convince others that everything was Lorlen's fault. Akkarin however seemed to accept the punishment and simply ignored Lorlen – which Lorlen reciprocated gladly. Either he was such a reserved person or it was all a part of a bigger plan that Lorlen simply didn't have any idea of. He shook his head coming back to reality. He noticed with horror that he had let Akkarin catch up with him on the work. He cursed silently and reprimanded himself for becoming so unfocused. If he wanted to spend the evening outside, he should better stop contemplating and start working.

---

It took them over an hour to finish cleaning the last classroom. Lorlen straightened up with relief, getting up from the last desk and throwing the cleaning brush into the bucket with dirty water. He quickly looked out through the window. It was still bright, the sun was now decidedly out of the clouds and the weather was inviting. Lorlen gathered all his cleaning utensils and moved slowly towards the exit. Akkarin was just finishing his part and a moment later they set out in silence to Lord Balkan's rooms. Lorlen hoped the check-up would not take long.

Two flight of stairs, one corridor and one yard later they were about to enter the Magicians' Quarters. To Lorlen's surprise Lord Balkan only waved a hand at them.

'I have an important meeting in a while, I have no time for you now' he said absent-mindly. Then he cast them a more inquisitive look. 'As it is your last day of punishment, I hope everything is spotless... And that it will remain like that – in all possible ways' he said harshly. 'Now, take all your utensils and put them back in the cleaning closet. Give the key to the night guard, he will bring it to me tomorrow. Good night.'

Lorlen couldn't believe his luck. He was finally free! He grabbed the bucket and the bag with brushes and followed Akkarin out. They went slowly back to the University Building. Now that he could fully enjoy his freedom, the air seemed to taste and smell different. The sun was setting and it gave the evening a surreal setting of colours. Lorlen regretted that he had to enter the building again, he wished he could savour the moment longer. But it won't be long, he comforted himself.

He shifted the strap that held the sack with brushes as it started to rub his arm painfully. He put the bucket with water on the floor. It was heavy and he needed to switch hands often. He grabbed the handle with the other hand and straightened up.

'Oh, Lorlen, how nice you've finished cleaning the classrooms' a voice reached him. He glanced sideways just to notice Fargan and one of his friends coming out of the corner.

'Now, wouldn't you mind to clean my dormitory as well? It's your last chance for you to serve a good cause' he laughed out loud.

Lorlen gritted his teeth, determined not to let himself be provoked, and started to move towards the corridor on the left. Fargan crossed his way, blocking his path.

'Come on, you surely would like to _clean_ something. After watching all this mess...' Fargan waved his hand carelessly. 'Once the Administrator learns about everything, your chances to clean anything here will be gone.'

Lorlen looked up at Fargan not knowing what he was talking about. Fargan smiled knowingly.

'You know, all the mess in the office... I have been there and so I've seen everything' Fargen laughed again.

'You broke into the Administrator's office???' Lorlen stuttered in horror. It seemed to be one of the craziest things a novice could commit.

'Me? No, I didn't.' Fargan smiled nastily, pausing for a while. 'You did.'

Lorlen could feel his mouth dropping. What was he talking about?

'Don't you remember?' Fargan's smile widened. 'You searched the place all over and left it in a mess. How unfortunate that your handkerchief got caught on something and tore apart... Apparently some piece was left in the office. Here, look.' He pulled out a torn piece of cloth out of his pocket. It took a few seconds for Lorlen to realize that it was indeed his own. He recognized a small part of his House's incal in one corner – the rest of the embroidery was torn away.

'Now, if you weren't the only novice from the Levlen House' Fargan continued indifferently 'it would be difficult to find the perpetrator. But as you are, the thing should be easy to solve. And quick as well – I have heard the Administrator is holding an informal meeting with the Higher Magicians in about an hour. They should have no problem figuring out what has happened. If I were you, I would start packing my stuff. This way you won't be late for dinner at home and I'm sure you won't spend another evening here.'

Lorlen listened in shock. At first he didn't grasp what has happened, but as Fargan continued he started to realize what he had done – he stole Lorlen's handkerchief, broke into the Administrator's office and left it there so that it would seem it was Lorlen who did it. Lorlen couldn't believe it. Just a while ago it seemed everything was improving for him – with the punishment ending – and now this. He almost laughed out realizing the irony. Then it slowly dawned on him that it was all happening for real and that it was probably his last day at the Guild. Somehow it didn't make him as happy as he would have thought a few months ago. He shook his head as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. Unfortunately, reality didn't seem to give in.

'It's a good habit to lock the door to your room with magic apart from standard methods. Then your stuff would be safe' a calm voice broke into his bitter thoughts.

Lorlen looked up and realized it was Akkarin talking – at first he didn't recognize the voice. No wonder, they haven't been talking to each other for quite a time. He scanned Akkarin's face and another shocking thought ran through his dizzy mind. Wasn't that cynicism on his rival's face? Could it be that he was involved in all this mess as well? He must have been, Lorlen realized. Fargan might have broken into his room and stolen his handkerchief but he probably wouldn't be able to break the magical lock on the Administrator's door by himself – but Akkarin was more powerful, he might have been able to do that. That would explain Akkarin's surprising composure during all their punishment. He was simply waiting for it to come to an end – now Lorlen's break of rules couldn't harm him. Lorlen shook his head again. He could cope with one enemy at a time – either Fargan or Akkarin – but with them both allied it was simply too much.

'How about my room then? You won't have another chance to clean a true magician's apartments' Fargan was almost laughing.

'Piss off' Lorlen retorted. He didn't have the strength to look up at his foes; he spun on his heels and simply walked away leaving all the cleaning utensils for Akkarin to worry about.

He reached his room without noticing anything on the way. He found without any surprise that the lock on his door was indeed broken. He slipped inside and collapsed on the bed. Everything seemed surreal. It was strange how he was still lying on his bed, in his room, at the Guild's grounds yet knowing that it were his last moments there. The nearest future had become strangely predictable, yet he was completely unable to change it. Or was he able? Lorlen sat up abruptly. What if he went to the Administrator's office and took away the treacherous part of his handkerchief? The lock was broken anyway, he shouldn't have any trouble getting in. He looked up at the clock on the wall. No, it's too late. There would only be half an hour till the Higher Magicians meeting. He lay down again. There were probably many people strolling around that floor anyway. No chance for slipping in unnoticed. He contemplated the dirt spots on the ceiling for a while. Or maybe there was? He sat up again. Did he have anything to lose anyway? True, if anybody noticed him sneaking into the Administrator's office, he would surely be thrown out. But that was true even if he didn't try. Suffice it that the Higher Magicians find his handkerchief there and he surely would be expelled as well. He glanced at the clock with determination – no time to lose, he decided.

He ran out of his room and headed towards the University building. He slowed down only when he reached the huge doors. He passed just a few magicians on the way and a couple of novices. He smoothed his robes and walked inside calmly. He reached a side stairway deciding that it would look extremely suspicious if anybody noticed him using the main staircase at such a late hour. There was less chance of being caught at the side stairs and even if that happened maybe he could explain himself. He climbed up slowly, stopping after each couple of steps and listening carefully. The building seemed almost empty. He could hear muffled steps somewhere above, but they were far away. After what seemed like eternity he reached the right floor. He peeked out of the staircase and quickly hid away again. There was some alchemist he did not recognize standing right with his back to the Administrator's office. As the corridor was winding slightly, the magician looked almost at the place where Lorlen was hiding. Lorlen counted to ten in his mind and slowly sticked his head out again. The magician was still there but he turned sideways and didn't look at Lorlen's direction. He seemed to be waiting for somebody. Well, that will be it then. If he was waiting for the Administrator he wouldn't move until all the Higher Magicians come for the meeting. Lorlen sighed quietly. At least he tried.

Right then, the alchemist sighed as well, only audibly. He seemed resigned. And then he started turning towards the stairway Lorlen was standing on. The boy stopped breathing, his eyes widening, expecting to be found any moment. Suddenly, the alchemist patted himself on the forehead and turned towards the main staircase instead. Lorlen didn't want to know if he wanted to search for the person he was waiting for or if it was for some other reason – he was only grateful that the magician chose some other way. He let out his breath and started moving carefully towards the office. There was nobody to be heard. He reached the door and waited for a while facing it and listening attentively. No one was inside. Just as he was to turn the knob, a whisper reached him.

'It took you some time, I have to say...'

Lorlen turned around startled. Akkarin! How come he came out of nowhere? Lorlen looked at the other novice with horror. With all the worrying about being spotted by magicians he completely forgot that his foes could try to prevent him from washing away the guilt.

'I was almost ready to go away' Akkarin continued to whisper, his lip curling into a mysterious smile. They scanned each other for a short while in silence. Lorlen was unable to speak. All his plans went down tumbling and he had no idea what to say or do.

'Well, what are you waiting for? The meeting will start in 15 minutes or so' Akkarin whispered impatiently. 'I will watch your back. I will knock quietly on the door if I hear somebody coming. One knock means they are far away, three knocks – that it's high time to move out. They will probably come by the main stairway, so in case of emergency I run to the right staircase and you run to the left one. This way at least one of us should go out unnoticed' he said, wincing a bit.

Lorlen stared at him with shock. What did all that mean? Did Akkarin just propose to help him? It didn't make any sense!

'What are you waiting for? Hurry up and find that damn handkerchief!' Akkarin looked at him sternly.

Lorlen didn't have any time to think over what he had just heard. He turned towards the door, turned the knob quietly and slipped inside. He drew breath loudly. The room was really in a mess. He didn't even know what to turn his gaze to. There were books, papers and notes everywhere. It looked as if a tornado went through the office. No way would he get out of it if his handkerchief was found! But where was it?... He scanned the room quickly but it was nowhere to be seen. It was just a small torn away corner and Fargan was probably wiser than to put it in some visible place – it would be too conspicuous to be considered a proof. What did he say exactly? That it got caught up on something? What could that be? A desk corner? No. A window frame? No. Lorlen moved around the room trying to pick out all the sharp objects and corners among all the paper garbage. No success. He had no choice but to start moving furniture around, making even more mess. But it wouldn't make the sight much worse, he sighed. He looked at the shelves, the chairs and the sofa; he even considered the pictures on the wall. No cloth to be found. He started opening the spirits cabinet when he heard a light knock on the door. His heart skipped a beat. He tried to calm down but he couldn't help his hands trembling.

The Administrator must be fond of drinks, he noticed. There were bottles of various shapes, sizes and colours in the cabinet, but none of them caught the God forsaken handkerchief. Lorlen closed the cabinet and hastily moved around the room again, checking once more all the places he looked into before – vaguely hoping that he had missed something. Nothing. He started to feel despondent. He cast a quick glance around before moving out. His gaze stopped on the desk for a while. There was something white sticking out from among a dishevelled stack of papers. Could that be a cloth? But it couldn't be torn away by a bunch of paper; it didn't make any sense to put it there! He moved closer to check it – just in case. No, it was just another note. He was looking at it hopelessly when something else caught his gaze. Drawers! He didn't look at the desk drawers! He quickly moved behind the desk, pulling away the chair that was covering the drawers. There it is! A tiny piece of cloth with colourful embroidery, hanging out from a partially closed drawer. Lorlen grabbed it without a thought, tearing it even more in the process, but he didn't care. He ran out of the office, almost crashing into Akkarin who was about to knock on the door again. Lorlen raised the hand with the cloth high in triumph, but Akkarin only motioned him hastily towards the staircase on the left. Then Lorlen heard it. Loud steps and muffled voices, dangerously close. He turned and ran towards the left staircase as fast as he could, not caring if he made a noise – they will notice the mess in the office anyway so there was no point in being secretive any more. As long as they don't recognize him, he will be fine. He only hoped – a strange thought considering everything – that Akkarin will be fine as well. He ran down a few steps at a time, stopping abruptly before going out of the stairway into the hall. He peeked out and sighed with relief. Nobody was there. He moved out, forcing himself not to run, just in case there was somebody there that he didn't spot. He let himself rush only after he moved about a hundred feet away from the building.

He reached the Novices' Quarters all sweating. He almost didn't believe it when he finally sat down on his bed, breathing heavily and holding the innocent cloth piece in his hands. He noticed with some nervousness that the incal was not complete. It seemed that he had torn most of the cloth away from the drawer but some was left. Still, it should be unrecognizable. He sighed deeply lying down on the bed. Impossible as it may seem, he should come out of all this mess unscratched.

He didn't know how long he was lying down, fully clothed, in the bed. Maybe he dozed off or maybe he was simply dreaming awake – replaying all the events in his mind. He came back to reality when he heard some noise outside his room. He got up slowly and peered out. There were novices all around the corridor. They were gathered in small groups discussing something fervently. Lorlen's heart started beating faster. He quietly joined the nearest group to listen on the conversation. Just as he thought rumours have started spreading around. Apparently, there was a break in into the Administrator's office. The intruder was looking for something – possibly documents – but so far nothing was found to be missing. The Administrator and his Assistant are still in the process of checking everything, though. Some say it was a novice who did that, but it's yet to be confirmed. Anyway, a thorough investigation will be carried out, as it is considered a high threat to have anybody breaking in into the Administrator's office.

Lorlen listened carefully, his spirits rising with each piece of news he heard. He stayed with the group – pretending to be interested – for a while long enough not to be considered indifferent, and then withdrew to his room. He felt terribly tired. He prepared to sleep, his moves slow from all the tension he was finally letting out. As he lay in the bed, almost sleeping, a thought struck him. What was Akkarin's part in all this? Was he so two-faced to plot against Lorlen and then betray Fargan? But why? It would bring him nothing. Or maybe he had nothing to do with it and was simply helpful? Did Lorlen judge him wrong at the very beginning? What was that caused him to dislike Akkarin so much in the first place? He was too tired to remember. Before he had a chance to force himself to think about it more thoroughly, he fell asleep.

---

He overslept. He cursed silently as he hurried out of the Novices' Quarters the next morning; and he cursed even more when he rushed out of the Dining Hall – no chance of getting anything to eat that late. He reached the classroom just to catch a very disgusted look from Lady Alaya – their Healing teacher. Fortunately, she was only beginning and the class was still settling down. Lorlen cast a quick glance at the front desks. He realized that it was the end of his punishment and that it was time to repair all the social links he has lost throughout it. He caught Mikkel's apologetic look – the seat next to him was taken. Actually, all the seats in the front rows were occupied, apart from one. And it was a Healing class, Lorlen really wished to sit in front and listen carefully. Lady Alaya looked at him angrily again; he had to make a quick decision. He moved towards the free spot.

'May I sit here?' he asked as calmly as he could manage.

Akkarin looked up from the book he was reading, slightly surprised. Then his lip curled into that mysterious smile of his as he moved his notes, books and pens aside to make more place.

'Sure' came the reply.


	8. Chapter 5

**Surprise, surprise. This one didn't take half a year to write. Only 5 months ;) Actually, it was meant to be longer (in terms of plot at least) but I decided that 5k is enough for once. Don't want to get you bored too much. I cut the story in the most suitable place although it still seems a bit weird. I hoped I could push the plot line much further this time, but somehow it didn't happen. It's only more of Lorlen/Akkarin rambling, although they finally get to talk to each other :p Next time they will talk even more... Anyway, the positive side to it all is that I have some bits and pieces of the next chapter already written, so hopefully it will see the light of the day soon. Hopefully. You know what it means.**

**---**

'No chance of playing Corier today' Mikkel complained, wincing noticeably when he peeked out of the corridor window. You couldn't even say it was raining. It was pouring outside. Lorlen joined him after the Healing class as they moved towards the second floor. Nobody of the class dared make use of the 15 minute break in between lectures – Lord Margen was unpredictable when it came to late comers. And so everybody played nice and gathered in advance in front of the closed lecture hall. Even the conversations seemed hushed as if there was any punishment for talking even before the lesson started. Lorlen sighed. He hated Alchemy. And he hated Lord Margen. Or maybe the other way round. Who knows, maybe it would be a sensible subject if taught by somebody else? Mikkel gave a similar sigh in response. Lorlen was sure they had unanimous opinion about the coming class.

'Nah, at least it will be easier to doze off and get some well deserved rest during the lecture' Mikkel said. 'Although we would probably have to fight our way to find a seat in the back' he finished looking meaningfully at the rest of the students. Nobody liked to sit in front when Margen was teaching.

Lorlen was just about to say something when the unwelcome figure appeared around the corner. All talks ceased. Lorlen squeezed into the crowd near the door following Mikkel's example. As soon as the door was opened everybody rushed in, as quickly as it was possible while still maintaining a veil of composure. Lorlen was unfortunately not skilled enough in elbow fights and ended up standing alone somewhere in the middle of the classroom looking for a free spot in the back rows. Only then he noticed Mikkel beckoning him to join him – somehow the Elyne boy managed to get a decent place. Lorlen moved quickly noticing one of the girls trying to smile his friend into allowing her take the seat next to him. Lorlen did not hide his relief when he saw Mikkel shake his head in denial – maybe it was unmanly to refuse her the seat, but he was really not in the right mood to face Margen for the next two hours. He needed some time to think over yesterday's events in peace. He slumped down, taking out his notebooks and writing gear, even if he didn't have any intention on using them. He winced, noticing Mikkel spreading his stuff all over the desk. The Elyne didn't waste any time in making himself comfortable – he was now slouching over his books, trying to find a good place to keep true to his earlier promises. Obviously, he was just about to take a nap.

'`night, Lorlen...' he said, yawning.

Lorlen sighed one more time. It seemed he wouldn't have any company during the class again. For the whole morning Healing class they sat in awkward silence with Akkarin. Or at least Lorlen thought it was awkward. Akkarin didn't seem bothered as he read a book throughout the whole lecture. Lorlen badly wanted to ask him about his strange behaviour the day before but somehow he couldn't voice it out. First, the class was not the best place for a lengthy talk; second, he didn't know where to start. True, Akkarin was really helpful and Lorlen would gladly accept it for what it was, but he couldn't help suspicion well up in his mind. Why would his rival help him all of a sudden? Especially when he risked so much? If they had been caught they would have both been expelled by now. It was hard to believe that Akkarin had no interest in acting like he did. Maybe he was really on Fargan's side, and it was only a part of some bigger, intricate plan that Lorlen had no idea of? Lorlen shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. There was no way he could find a fitting explanation by himself. He had to trick Akkarin into revealing himself somehow. He cast a quick glance over the classroom trying to spot the familiar black-haired boy. He couldn't find him. He wasn't sitting in any of the back rows and a longer scan over his classmates did not show him in the front rows either. Lorlen furrowed his brows. Strange. Where could he have gone to? It was rather bold of him to skip classes a day after his punishment ended. He couldn't find a reason for it but somehow it made Lorlen feel offended. He felt as if Akkarin had tricked him and out-passed him again, even if it was only at defying rules. He shook his head again. It was stupid to think like that. He shouldn't really bother himself with what Akkarin was doing... Maybe he will get a chance to talk to him later and pull all the information he needed out of him. No point in bothering right now when Akkarin was nowhere to be seen.

Lorlen picked up his gaze and looked out of the window instead. The rain seemed to have intensified, impossible as it may seem. Lorlen rested his chin on the palm of his hand and watched the droplets bang against the glass of the window. Looking out at the soaked lawns, he hoped against reason that there would be a chance to play Corier at least once before the bad weather settled in for good. The sound of howling wind mixed with the rhythmic tip-taps of the rain hushed the monotonous voice that filled the classroom. Lorlen felt his eyelids become heavy...

He woke up with a start to the sound of chairs being pushed around. He took in his surroundings incredulously. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He shook away the drowsiness and elbowed Mikkel who had just started to snort next to him.

'Wh-what?' Mikkel rubbed his eyes sleepily.

'Rest time is over. Time for lunch.' Lorlen gave him a wink. He couldn't believe they had slept over the whole lecture and got away with it. It seemed like a lucky day for them...

---

Lorlen got his chance for a talk with Akkarin a while later, when they entered the Food Hall. He spotted his rival placing his tray with dishes on a table close to the other entrance. He gathered his courage, waved dismissively at a surprised Mikkel who had just started cringing at the food choice, and moved straight towards Akkarin.

'Hey, may I join you?'

Akkarin regarded him absent-mindedly and shrugged in response. 'If you like to...'

Lorlen set down his tray and took the seat opposite Akkarin.

'You skipped the Alchemy class' he started accusingly, not yet interested in his food.

'And so?' Akkarin looked up from the dish he had just started. 'Are you going to do something about it? Point it out to Margen for example?' he said looking straight into Lorlen's eyes, smirking as if daring him to say anything more.

Lorlen could feel his cheeks going hotter. Why was this guy so intimidating? 'N-no, of course not. I simply wanted to talk to you earlier and you weren't around' he backed out. Lorlen wanted to get something out of him and decided it wasn't wise to spite Akkarin like that from the beginning.

Akkarin looked at him for a while longer, the smirk turning into a faint smile. 'Ah, I had some important matters to attend to' he said dismissively turning back to his lunch.

Lorlen stopped with the fork half way to his mouth. 'Important matters? What would that be?' It seemed crazy that a novice would have matters more important than attending classes. Actually, a novice should have nothing else to do than attend classes.

'Aren't you asking too many questions?' Akkarin answered coldly, not bothering to look up from his plate. 'And where's that interest in my person coming from all of the sudden?' he finally looked up glancing Lorlen square into the eyes again. Lorlen stared at him, surprised. He didn't think before asking, he was simply stunned that Akkarin had 'matters to attend'. He was about to apologize for being nosy but then decided otherwise – that would simply be too much. Instead he dropped his gaze and finally let the fork find a way to his mouth. Somehow he forgot that he shouldn't be too nice to Akkarin – they were still rivals. He actually should be angry. Akkarins straightforward questions were annoying and he should not feel intimidated by them, he decided. But he needed to clear up the situation. Moving about in the dark was too risky. But how should he get all the information out of Akkarin? He chewed on the meat to gain some time.

'Forget it. I just wanted to know whose side you're on' he finally broke the silence deciding to be as blunt as his foe.

'Side? I didn't know there were any sides' Akkarin replied indifferently, not even looking up, again. Lorlen felt rage boiling up in him finally. This jerk tried to back out of everything and was blatantly ignoring him!

'Don't tell me Fargan broke into the office by himself, he's too stupid for that. But I know one person who would be able to do just that' Lorlen hissed, managing to control his anger and keeping his voice down so that nobody would overhear him.

Akkarin finally looked up, surprise washing the indifference away. 'Are you implying that I helped him break in and then helped you as well?' he gazed at Lorlen stunned but then shook his head, giving out a quick laugh. 'Do I really look that crazy?'

Lorlen gritted his teeth. This was going nowhere. 'So where does this change of attitude come from? Last I remember you weren't that friendly towards me. You seemed to take a liking in spiting me from the very first day'.

'Me?' Akkarin put on a questioning look. 'Me?' he repeated. 'I don't remember that' he shook his head, looking down and stabbing the salad forcefully. Lorlen did not reply, he only continued starting angrily at him. He wasn't giving in that easily; until the guy tells him everything he won't let him get away with silly excuses.

'Look,' Akkarin must have felt the gaze and faced him again. 'I don't know what you're getting at. I didn't do anything to...'

'You didn't?' Lorlen broke in. 'How about all that silly comments on the first class?'

'Comments? I simply noticed that you're a quick learner, that's it' Akkarin shrugged. 'Sure, I did enjoy competing with you, but there's nothing hostile in it, is there? Spiteful attitude? You're imagining things.'

Lorlen gritted his teeth again, receiving an inquisitive but calm look from Akkarin.

'If I were you I would try to calm down and control myself. In the end it will turn against you; you're making enemies where there's no real need to' Akkarin said still holding Lorlen's gaze. Then he stood up and started collecting his plates. 'By the way, I helped you because I can't stand stupid jerks bullying people – and that's what this Fargan was doing. I hope this satisfies your curiosity; isn't it what you wanted to pull out of me?' he glanced at Lorlen again but didn't receive any answer.

'Still, it doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to go easy on you' he put one final, half-empty plate on the tray and gave Lorlen a meaningful smirk. 'Warrior class is coming up. You'd better get ready.' And with that he took the tray and left Lorlen stupefied.

-----

Lorlen moved slowly through the University Hall, the case with books banging against his legs. He didn't really know what to make of the conversation with Akkarin. Should he believe him? The line about Fargan sounded plausible, but what about their rivalry? Lorlen furrowed his brows concentrating. What had caused him to turn against Akkarin in the first place? He couldn't quite remember. Could it be true that he was making too much out of a few stupid comments?

'Heya!'

A bang on his shoulder woke him up from his thoughts.

'Where are you going? We have Warrior class in five minutes.' Mikkel seemed unnaturally cheerful, even for himself – his smile stretched from one ear to the other.

Lorlen put on a questioning look.

'Well, yes. That's where I was going...'

'Haven't you checked the class schedule?' Mikkel looked at him with disbelief. 'Today we have the class in the Arena' he smiled widely again. 'And that means we're finally gonna start learning something interesting.'

Lorlen's eyes widened in shock. Arena? He looked at Mikkel's grin again and understanding struck him. So that was why Akkarin told him to get ready! And he was just about to believe in his good intentions! He could feel the muscles in his face begin to contort in anger but he fought it back. He only pressed his lips tight in determination. He was far from ready to face Akkarin but he would not give in easily. He noticed with surprise that he also felt a little disappointed. But why would he feel disappointed with Akarin? Silly thinking. He shook his head and pressed his lips even tighter.

'Let's go then' he said forcefully.

Mikkel looked at him inquiringly for a moment, bewildered by this strange display, but did not ask any questions. They got out of the University building and straight into the pouring rain. Lorlen quickly raised a light magical barrier to shield himself against the water that threatened to soak him completely in a mere second. It was a very basic protection – against weather mainly and hardly ever called a shield – but he quickly learned that it was one of the most useful magical skills. He was a magician for a couple of months only but he couldn't imagine now how people went without it. The only thing that beat it was lightning fire and light balls by as much as a flick of a wrist. At least that was how it was for him, he concluded looking at Mikkel. He had just stopped to look for him because the other seemed to fall behind. The poor Elyne tried to walk straight, holding a hand with his school bag over his head and at the same time concentrating visibly to put on the shield. By looking at Mikkel Lorlen realized that it was obviously not such an easy task as it seemed to him. Mikkel's barrier kept going up for as high as half a meter above the ground but then invariably flickered and collapsed. Lorlen waited until the other boy caught up with him and stretched his own shield so that it covered them both. They had no time to lose; Mikkel would have to train shielding on his own later.

They reached the Arena just in time. Mikkel sighed with relief when they finally got under the huge Arena shield. Lorlen let his own disappear finally, just as Lord Balkan raised his voice to hush the excited novices.

'Today you will learn the basics of magical strikes. We have covered much of basic shielding by now – we will learn the more advanced methods next semester – and now it's time for you to learn how to attack using magic. Before we start, I have a few warnings' Lord Balkan looked seriously around the whole class. Lorlen could swear his gaze stopped for a while longer when he regarded him and Akkarin. 'First of all, I hope you have acquainted yourselves with the assigned readings for today's class.'

Lorlen mentally slapped himself on the face. Of course, he didn't have time yesterday to even check what had been assigned; he was busy sneaking into the Administrator's office.

'Second, I wish not to repeat myself, but I'd like to remind you of the vow you have given at the Acceptance Ceremony. No magician is allowed to harm any citizen of the Allied Lands, except in self defence. Attacking with magic is only used as the last resort and as such is subject to appropriate regulations' Lord Balkan's voice was deadly serious. 'What we learn here is meant only as a training that shall never be used outside the Arena.'

'As for the safety of our classes' he started again after a short pause, 'there are also a few rules that you have to obey without any exception. You are not allowed to strike without my permission. For the first couple of lessons each of you will train separately – one after one, under my supervision, with the rest of the class watching. Only after you grasp the basics, will we start sparring sessions. Even so, you will strike only after I give you a visible sign to do so. The rest of the class will stand aside, at least 5 meters behind. There's a yellow line over there to mark the place from where you're allowed to watch.' He pointed his finger over their heads. Everybody instantly scurried away, eager to get the more interesting part of the lesson started.

'Good.' Lord Balkan smiled faintly when all the novices settled at their new position. 'During all the training parts of the lesson you are obliged to keep on a shield of the 2nd rank – just in case. You will not let the shield down until I give you permission to do so. Put it on now.'

The air around the group flickered and sparkled with magic as everyone hurriedly raised magical barriers around themselves. Lorlen cast a sideways glance at Mikkel – holding a shield while standing was much easier than moving it along while walking and fortunately his friend had no problems this time. Lorlen moved a bit to the side to raise his own barrier. Some of the magical fields collided and elicited vicious sparks as they fought against each other. Lord Balkan furrowed his brows motioning everybody to spread along the yellow line. Keeping safe distance was something they had learnt on the first lessons and he was visibly displeased that they forgot it in the excitement.

'Right. Now, I will ask each of you to step forward to that circle there' he pointed his finger to the middle of the Arena. 'We will start from the left and go along the line. Greeta, you will be the first'.

The girl moved forward, taking the position. Lorlen could clearly see she was nervous but at the same time she radiated excitement. She was not the best in the class but recently she was doing rather well in Lord Balkan's classes. She was probably anxious to show off.

'First we will see your natural abilities in forming strikes. I will not give you any precise instructions, you simply need to concentrate and send a fraction of your power forward. Greeta, try to remember the visualization that Lord Fordel described in the first chapter of 'Magical Strikes' – it might be helpful. Aim at the Arena shield slightly above you. You can strike when you're ready.'

Lorlen watched as the girl nodded her head and concentrated. He wondered what kind of visualization Lord Balkan was talking about, it must have been described in one of the assigned readings. It seemed Greeta however new well about it as a second later a faint glow erupted from within her shield and headed towards the shield of the Arena. It dissipated quite a distance before reaching it, though. Greeta's cheeks coloured a faint shadow of pink. She obviously expected something more.

'Good' Lord Balkan said. 'That was a light stun strike. You can move back now. Halik, you're next.'

Lorlen watched the next novice trying his best at hitting the Arena shield. His strike was brighter – a power strike as Lord Balkan explained – but fainted even earlier than Greeta's. It made the girl visibly proud. Lorlen listened carefully to the cues and remarks that Balkan was giving to each student, as they struck in turn, trying to make a coherent picture of what he was actually supposed to do to form a strike. He didn't want to ask their teacher for precise instructions – he just couldn't own up in front of everybody to the fact that he didn't read any of the assigned lectures. He should be able to produce a strike anyway – he's done it once, right? He tried to remember how it felt back then – but he failed. He was so overwhelmed with emotion when he attacked Akkarin on that day that he didn't really think before striking.

Fortunately, he was one before last – with Mikkel ending the queue – and so he could observe all the other students. Just now Meik beat the record, almost hitting the shield with his power strike. He moved back looking around triumphantly. Not that his score would last long, Lorlen noticed to himself. Akkarin's turn was coming soon, and he had no doubt that the black-haired boy would outdo Meik's achievement. So far, Lorlen hoped that reaching the shield would be enough to score well, but since Meik almost managed that and Akkarin would definitely do better, Lorlen himself would have to achieve something more. But what? He didn't even know how strikes could be ranked. How did one assess which one was better and which one was worse? From what Lord Balkan said it seemed that power strikes were generally considered better. But in what sense? And how would he know if he was forming a stun or a power strike?

He silently watched Keira step forward; Akkarin was next. The girl formed a very light power strike, leaving Meik victorious for a while longer. Akkarin moved to the centre of the Arena without hesitation as soon as she stepped back into the line. He didn't need any time to concentrate; the moment Lord Balkan nodded his permission to aim, he sent a blindingly bright power strike towards the Arena shield. Everybody gasped. It reached the shield with ease and sent flashes of light travelling in waves throughout its surface from where it has struck it. Lorlen could feel his mouth drop. How was he supposed to outdo that?! He didn't even know where to begin with... He felt a cold shiver running down his spine. No way could he even keep up with the level Akkarin set. Not today.

Lord Balkan simply nodded in approval. Lorlen was shocked that Akkarin's achievement didn't receive any other acknowledgment. The rest of the class seemed to agree with him, as they watched open-mouthed as Akkarin came back to the row. What other novices have produced paled in comparison – it seemed more like kids playing, not serious magic. The few students left in the queue tried to look self-assured but it was a difficult task now. Lorlen watched with dread as his turn was getting closer. When he finally stepped forward he could feel everybody's gaze fixed on him expectantly. Still, he could swear that one stare was more piercing than others. Daring. Was it only his imagination? This time probably not.

He noticed Lord Balkan nod his head in permission to strike and tried to concentrate. Now what? Strikes obviously did not come out of sheer concentration, as they would have come out flying around Lorlen now if that was the case. For a while he thought he should imagine Akkarin as a target, but it only brought him closer to despondence. He sighed, noticing the rain still pouring outside the Arena shield. After all, this didn't seem like a lucky day for him. If only it stopped raining, everything would look brighter.

That gave him an idea. Maybe he could send his power out simply like he did when raising the temperature? Even if it wouldn't produce a strike, at least he would take revenge on the rain... He concentrated again and grabbed as much of his power as he dared - he _still_ remembered his burnt hand – and pushed it forward with as much speed as he could. He watched with disbelief as an orange blow headed towards the shield. It wasn't too focused – it seemed to overflow at times – and it didn't quite reach the target, but Lorlen could hear the faint sound of water droplets sizzling where they touched the Arena shield close to the point he aimed at.

'Nice' he heard Lord Balkan's voice. 'That was a fire strike. But next time please try some other strike. Fire strikes are more difficult to shield against, as they generally raise the temperature around the target and we don't want anybody burnt here' he ended meaningfully.

Lorlen retreated to his previous position, not really sure if he should be satisfied with himself or not. Anyway, his troubles weren't over – he didn't know how he should try another strike and judging by Lord Balkan's words, there was another round coming up. When Mikkel came back after his rather weak attempt at forming a strike, Lorlen whispered quietly to him.

'How do you form a power strike?'

Mikkel looked at him as if he didn't fully understand the question and then his gaze turned into a glare.

'If I knew I would have produced one' he hissed in answer.

Lorlen rolled his eyes. 'I mean, what were the instructions in the books?'

Mikkel cast him a look of disbelief. 'You haven't read that?'

'Would I be asking you this if I had?' Lorlen retorted through his clenched teeth. He realized that probably he was the only one – the others would have read everything weeks before, everybody seemed to be waiting for this day.

It was Mikkel's turn to roll his eyes. 'You should visualize your power as a lightning bolt and, well, aim it somewhere. It wasn't really that helpful. At least it didn't help_ me' _he whined in a hushed voice.

'Thanks'. Lorlen nodded his head. He turned to watch the other novices at their second tries. This time Balkan instructed them to put as much power as possible into the strikes. The effects were varied. Some novices indeed managed to make their strikes brighter and sent them further, but others tried too hard and did worse than before. Akkarin's performance was again faultless; except now he managed to produce even more sparkles of energy on the shield. Lorlen sighed inaudibly. Today's victory belonged definitely to Akkarin. He would have to practice before the next class.

While he stood at the centre again he wondered faintly if lightning bolts were safer than fire. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to put as much power as possible into the strike if he didn't really know how to form, not to mention control it. As he embraced his magic as fully as he could manage he hoped Lord Balkan knew what he was doing. He let it out with a single breath. For a second, he couldn't see anything as he was blinded by the light that seemed to surround him. He blinked. His vision cleared a bit and he noticed his strike reach the Arena shield. It didn't elicit half as much magical friction as Akkarin's strike but nevertheless Lorlen was satisfied. First, he managed to form a power strike with no theoretical knowledge whatsoever; second, it reached its target; third, he was still alive and not even burnt. His vision would clear fully in a moment, so he could say he came out of it unscathed.

'You made the same error as with the fire strike before' Balkan's voice brought him down to earth. 'You should focus the power more. Right now most of it dissipated before reaching the target, not to mention that you could harm yourself. Of course, with the fire strike it would be more dangerous, but even with a power strike it's bad – in a real duel if you blinded yourself for that long, you would have already lost. Mikkel, your turn.'

Lorlen passed Mikkel on the way to the line. He was stunned. Was this guy for real? It was their first time using offensive magic, and he throws a line about real duels? The others didn't even manage to hit the shield; some could hardly produce a strike. Yet, neither his nor Akkarin's achievements earned them a positive response. He couldn't shake off the feeling of resentment, even as a sighing Mikkel came back to stand at his side. His second try was only slightly better than the previous one.

'This is all for today. You can release your shields. Tomorrow we have a theory class; next week we come back to the Arena.' Lord Balkan dismissed them with a wave of a hand.

Lorlen followed Mikkel to where they have left their cases. He noticed the Elyne joining a group of other students that talked excitedly about the finished class. Mikkel beckoned him to join them, but Lorlen had no intention of talking or even thinking about strikes anymore. Balkan's comments left a sour taste in his mouth and he wished he could forget about it all. He waved goodbye at Mikkel, threw the bag on his back and headed towards the Novice Quarters. That was their final class for today. He put on a barrier against the rain and stepped out of the Arena shield. He didn't have any motivation left today but tomorrow he would have to go to the library and get some good books on magical strikes. If he was to catch up with Akkarin, he couldn't wait for next week; he had a lot of practicing to do.

'That wasn't bad, although I expected more of you.'

Lorlen spun around to see who was talking; through the rain he did not hear anybody approaching. The reason for his worries was walking right by his side.

'You should practice more. These errors you've made are quite easy to eliminate.' Akkarin's lips were curled into a smile that widened even more as he continued. 'I hope you're better prepared next time. I can't wait for the sparring lessons, for us they might begin quite soon.'

Lorlen stopped in his step and looked at him in stupor. He stared even as Akkarin waved a hand at him and passed him by. Lorlen changed his mind. He wouldn't wait until tomorrow; he would go to the library today. Right now.


	9. Chapter 6

**Well, just as I promised – another chapter within a couple of weeks. The library mischief and some chit-chat ;) **

**Somehow I seem to make the chapters longer each time... But that's all good as I probably won't be able to update this story for a while. I have loads of ideas for this one and it's not even halfway through but I have started to write my own, original fiction and it's so much more fun... If you liked this story, you might want to check the one at FictionPress (paste the link into your browser and remove the spaces):**

**www . fictionpress . com / s / 2747543 / 1 / The_Fateless**

**I have only posted a prologue there, but the next chapter is coming up soon.**

---

_Falke, Felir, Fonte..._ It should be somewhere here. Lorlen checked the neat row of books for the third time. However strange it looked, it seemed there were no more copies of _'Basic Strikes'_ by Lord Fordel. Lorlen looked again at the reference card he retrieved from one of the indexing shelves. There should be at least ten volumes in the section for first-year novices. Yet, he couldn't find any. Maybe they were misplaced? Lorlen turned around and headed to the librarian's desk. Lord Defel either didn't notice his approach or was determined not to pay any attention, as he continued reading a book that looked at least as old as he did.

'Excuse me...' Lorlen started politely.

Lord Defel looked at him with annoyance. 'What is it again?'

'I can't find any copies of Lord Fordel's _'Basic Strikes'_, although the index lists over ten volumes. Could it be that they were misplaced somewhere?'

'We do not misplace any books' Lord Defel's eyes were ice cold as he spoke. 'If it's not on the shelf, it's not available' he finished, focusing on the book again.

'And the next part –_' Advanced Strikes'_?' Lorlen didn't want to give up. He retrieved that book's reference card as well – just in case. He wasn't sure how advanced was Akkarin in his study of the Warrior skills.

Lord Defel glared at him again. ' _'Advanced Strikes'_ are for second year novices, you're not allowed into that section' he said slowly and Lorlen could swear there was satisfaction in his voice. Well, that was how far Akkarin might have gone into the subject. Nothing lost then.

'Anything else?' there was a veil of politeness in the librarian's voice, but Lorlen did not get fooled.

'No, sorry for interrupting you' Lorlen turned back sighing. He almost crashed into the librarian's assistant, Lady Tya.

'Excuse me' Lorlen muttered ready to go and check the shelf one more time.

'It's nothing' the young magician smiled at him reassuringly. 'If you're looking for Lord Fordel's book you should ask your classmates. It's a popular title, especially at this time of semester, when your classes in the Arena start. Maybe somebody has already read it and could return it to the library – or simply lend it to you'

Lorlen nodded his head. 'Thank you for the advice. I'll go check once more, maybe I overlooked it' he sighed again. He would probably have to ask Mikkel for help, the Elyne might know who had borrowed the books and could still have them.

He reached the right section and gave the bookshelf one more look. No, there were no copies left.

'Huh, I didn't know you'd be that quick at preparing for the next class' a familiar voice made Lorlen spin around. Akkarin was looking at him with amusement. 'But that's all good. What are you looking for?'

Lorlen gritted his teeth. It wasn't good that he was found so quickly. And he hated that amused look on Akkarin's face. But he had to say something.

'I'm looking for the assigned readings...'

'Assigned readings?' Akkarin looked puzzled for a moment. 'Ah, ok. These...' he stopped for a while, pondering something. 'Haven't you read them yet?' his eyes were now piercing Lorlen enquiringly.

'Not really' Lorlen replied angrily. He didn't like being interviewed like that, either.

Akkarin cast a look at the shelf Lorlen scanned a while before.

'Fordel, isn't it?' he nodded his head knowingly. ' _'Basic Strikes'_, boring as hell. I wouldn't bother myself with it if I were you. You should start from the second volume' he stopped dipping his hand into the book bag he was carrying. 'Actually, I was just going to drop the copy I borrowed, I have read it a few times by now and there's nothing that inventive there anyway' he looked up meeting Lorlen's stunned gaze. 'So, if you like, you can have my copy' he finished handing the book to Lorlen.

'But... That's meant only for second year novices!' Lorlen finally raised his gaze that was stuck to the book Akkarin held.

'Is it?' Akkarin creased his brows. 'Well, it's not that much of a crime to read it. Everybody reads it sooner or later anyway' he shrugged, his face indifferent.

'But... How did you get a copy then?' Lorlen was still stupefied. No wonder Akkarin was so advanced in striking techniques!

'I just took a volume and went out. Isn't that what you do to get a book from the library?' Akkarin did not falter for a second. But when he saw Lorlen's suspicious gaze he added: 'It's not like he's going to notice anyway' the words were stressed with a nod towards where the librarian's desk stood, hidden by the bookshelves.

'You took a book for second years? Just like that?' Lorlen was unable to come out of the shock.

'Yes, I did. Do you want it or not?'

Lorlen hesitated. It probably wasn't wise to take it, but how would he catch up with Akkarin otherwise? And besides – he reassured himself remembering Lord Defel's attitude earlier – if the librarian was not willing to find him the appropriate volume, he would take what's available. He picked the book from Akkarin's hand and started scanning it quickly.

Akkarin gave him a while, observing his reactions. Lorlen finally picked his gaze.

'How did you manage to get allowed into that section?' he asked.

Akkarin curled his lips into a faint smile.

'Do you really want to know? Well, I'm heading there right now' he paused for a second and then looked Lorlen in the eyes. 'Are you coming?'

Lorlen held the gaze, his own eyes widened in surprise. He weighed his options quickly. He already took one book from that section, so was there any point in refraining from taking a look? He would have to return the book anyway, better know how to do that without alerting the librarian.

He nodded his head slowly. Akkarin simply smiled again.

'Ok, then follow me, but keep quiet.'

They went through the labyrinth of library bookshelves. Lorlen wondered if the first years' section was the only one that wound that much – to mislead the youngest novices and get them lost totally – or if all of the library looked that way. Or maybe it was Akkarin trying to make Lorlen loose his track? Lorlen frowned, considering the idea and almost stumbled into the black-haired boy when the other stopped abruptly. Akkarin moved his head out of the bookcase they were standing behind and then motioned Lorlen to follow him. They came out straight onto the huge door separating the first section from the others. So it couldn't be that Akkarin was trying to mislead him – Lorlen recognized the place instantly. Actually, there was a much simpler way to get there, right in front of... Gosh, that's it! They probably took the way around not to go in front of the librarian's desk.

'All clear, let's go' Akkarin motioned him to move. Lorlen followed his gaze onto the small desk that stood close to the door. Sometimes he had seen Lady Tya doing some work there but presently she wasn't there. Lorlen moved away from shelves. At first he thought they were going to enter the next section right through the main door, but Akkarin turned right and they went along the wall that separated the sections. Somehow the wall was also winding – it seemed nothing in this library was straight... They walked silently until they reached another row of bookshelves that went perpendicularly to the wall, blocking their way. They turned and followed it until they found a narrow passage between two shelves. Akkarin slipped into it and Lorlen followed. Behind it was another row of bookshelves, but they stood further apart. They passed this one as well and turned back towards the separating wall, which at this place was obscured by another stack of shelves leaning on it. Books were everywhere. They were wandering between them for long enough to give Lorlen a headache. He was no longer sure if he would be able to find his way back not to mention come back here some other day. Fortunately, after they passed a few shelves along the wall, Akkarin stopped. There it was – a tiny door in the wall cramped into a narrow space between two huge bookshelves. Lorlen sighed with relief. Akkarin put a finger cross his lips, motioning Lorlen to keep quiet. He leaned on the door pressing his ear to the dark, wooden surface.

'Nobody there, we may go' he said, straightening up after a while. He gently put his hand on the bronze door knob. 'It has only a simple mechanical lock that is easy to open and close with magic'.

As if to confirm his words, the lock clicked audibly, giving in to Akkarin's magic. He turned the knob silently, opened the door and went through it. Lorlen had no choice but to follow him again. To his surprise the door did not lead straight to the next section but opened onto a small room that was obviously the librarian's workshop. The wall must have wound more than Lorlen gave it credit for, allowing some space in between the sections. Lorlen wondered in amazement how many other secret places and passages did the library hold. He followed Akkarin through the room looking around the place and pondering what was the purpose of the tools that were neatly lined on the shelves that filled up the small space. With some of them he could guess – they were probably bookbinder's help, indispensible when repairing books. But some looked as if they were taken straight from their alchemy lab – maybe it was possible to repair books with magic as well? Or maybe they had even more sophisticated uses? He woke up from his thoughts when he crushed into his guide. Akkarin almost jumped, startled. He was leaning on another small, wooden door, listening attentively right until Lorlen bumped into him. Akkarin looked at him furrowing his brows.

'Sorry,' Lorlen mumbled. 'I didn't notice you stop'.

'Tssss...' Akkarin hissed in answer turning his attention back to the door. He stood motionless, pressed into it for a longer while. There must have been somebody on the other side. After what seemed like eternity to Lorlen, he grabbed the knob. Another loud click could be heard as he unlocked the door. They slipped outside.

Lorlen was slightly disappointed – the section they have entered looked just like the one he had already grown accustomed to. No dark, mysterious volumes to be found in the forbidden part – only another thousand or so of similarly looking , dusty books, lining another labyrinth of bookshelves. He followed Akkarin through the maze, scanning the book spines as they walked.

Finally, they stopped right under the sign 'Warrior skills for Novices'.

'Here we are. This is the section for second years' Akkarin started, grabbing one of the books from the shelf and flipping through it. Lorlen looked at the books cramped on the shelf in front of them.

'You might find this one more useful than both Fordel's books' Akkarin said, handing the book he was scanning to Lorlen and turning back towards the shelf. 'But...' he started again bending his head slightly as he read the titles on the spines. '...the best one is this one' he finished pulling another one from the row and turning to Lorlen. He pressed the volume into his hands, looking straight at him. 'It helped me a lot' he added, smiling at Lorlen's stunned face.

Lorlen looked at him for a while, then down at the books in his hands, then up at Akkarin again.

'I'm actually looking now for another title by the same author' Akkarin said before Lorlen managed to produce any sound and turned back to search through the books again.

Lorlen finally managed to regain some composure. He opened the book he was just given and leafed through it. The first part was on shields. Basic weather shields, shield stretching, main protective shields... Lorlen's eyes widened. He quickly scanned the next chapter titles...

'Ah, there is one, just as I supposed' Akkarin exclaimed, turning towards Lorlen and flipping through a book he had just retrieved.

'But...' Lorlen managed to stutter, fixing his eyes on Akkarin.

'Hmm?' Akkarin looked up at him questioningly.

'This is exactly the teaching programme we went through! Lesson by lesson!' Lorlen was shocked. This book was probably how Lord Balkan planned his classes!

'Ah, you're quick to notice. Well, yes. I suppose our teacher used it as a tutoring help' Akkarin nodded his head, smiling mysteriously.

'But... that's...' Lorlen couldn't word his annoyance. 'That's cheating! You knew in advance what would be taught in each class!'

'And so?' Akkarin's eyes widened in a silent enquiry.

'How was I supposed to keep up with you, if you could prepare so much in advance?' Lorlen spat.

'You consider that cheating? Hmmm...' Akkarin smiled again mischievously. 'I thought everything is allowed in this little game of ours' he said looking Lorlen in the eyes. 'Anyway,' he continued calmly, gesturing his head at the book Lorlen still held open, 'now you can catch up on everything. You have one week till the next class in the Arena, you'd better be quick.'

Lorlen continued to gape at him, stunned.

'Why?' he managed after a longer while. 'Why are you doing this? Giving me all these books?'

'So that you catch up' Akkarin stated as if it was obvious. 'It's boring otherwise. Especially as we are just starting the most interesting part. What's so surprising about it?' he finished noticing Lorlen's stare.

'If I hadn't found you in the library I wouldn't have probably bothered' he continued after a while as Lorlen did not reply 'but since you're so willing to improve and spar with me, then I want it as exciting as possible.'

Lorlen still didn't give any response.

'So what do you say? Is that more fair now?' Akkarin asked, the corner of his lips curling again into a faint smile. 'According to your principles, of course?'

'Are there any more of these?' Lorlen replied with a question. 'More advanced sections?'

'Whoa! Just a while ago you were hesitating whether to come even here and now you expect more?' Akkarin gave a short laugh. 'Well I guess so. These both parts we were in are for Novices and only for first and second years. Obviously, there are also sections for the higher years and the general access sections for trained magicians. And God only knows what else. This place is a real maze.'

'Have you found out how to reach them?' Lorlen pressed on.

'Not yet' the reply was short but meaningful, strengthened by another grin on Akkarin's face.

'And other disciplines?'

Akkarin pointed his head to the right. 'Just around the corner. You're not looking for Lord Margan's teacher's books, are you?' he joked.

'No, but there's another anatomy test coming up...' Lorlen answered carefully – he didn't want to own up to his pet subject.

Akkarin shrugged, visibly disinterested. 'I guess the assigned readings should suffice for that. But feel free to search there if you wish. I'll look here for a while more, we can meet in a few minutes.'

Lorlen nodded, already moving to the next aisle. He stopped by the Healing section. He stood there, eyes wide open, looking through the titles. There were so many more than in the first years' section! And they looked so much more interesting! Lorlen grabbed one for a start and started flipping through it. Then another one. And another. And yet one more. He sighed. He wished he could take them all, but that was obviously impossible. He would have to fit all the books from this section into his bag, so that the librarian wouldn't notice. And he already had three on Warrior skills. He couldn't tell Akkarin now that he was not interested in them... He sighed again, resigned. There would still be another occasion to pick some other titles. At least he hoped so.

'Here you are.' Lorlen almost jumped, hearing the voice. He didn't notice Akkarin's approach and he was unaware how much time he already spent in the Healing section.

'I think we should move back now, least somebody might notice us here. Our bags are left in the other section and that might look suspicious as well if anybody found them.'

Lorlen nodded his head and quickly chose two titles from among the ones he was checking. He added them to the pile of Warrior books and looked back at Akkarin.

'Ok, I'm ready.'

They moved quickly back towards the librarian's workshop. Lorlen concentrated on memorizing the way, looking around over the stack of books he was carrying. Akkarin chose only two books and it made Lorlen wonder how many of the others he had already read. They stopped in front of the small door. Akkarin turned back towards Lorlen, stacking his books under his arm and took Lorlen's pile out of his hands. Lorlen looked at him surprised.

'Now you try' Akkarin answered his questioning gaze and gestured with his head towards the door.

Lorlen nodded in understanding. He came closer to the door and pressed his ear to the wood. He listened for a while trying to pick out any suspicious sounds. He could hear nothing. He hoped it was not only because he wasn't good enough at it... He straightened up and touched the knob with his hand, sending his mind powers forward to sense the lock. He was surprised how easy it was – he could instantly feel the mechanism's structure. He put some of his power to align the lock's pins correctly and turned the knob. A sharp click announced the door open. Lorlen looked back at Akkarin, who simply nodded his head approvingly and moved inside.

'Now, close it back.'

Lorlen did as asked and they silently stepped through the room to repeat the same scenario at the other door. Once they were on the other side, Akkarin motioned Lorlen to pick his books from the rather large pile he was now holding and took the lead. They went the longer way again, avoiding the main aisle. Lorlen noticed a few landmarks on their way – a shelf with broken leg, fixed with a large nail; a large floor lamp and some peculiarly looking decorations – that could prove helpful may he want to find this path some other day. They finally reached the place they have met half an hour ago. Their bags looked untouched and they stuffed the books into them in silence.

Lord Defel didn't even pick up his gaze from the book he was reading as they passed him by, although Lorlen could swear his heart was beating so loud everybody could hear it. They kept silent for the whole way from the library to the Novices' Quarters and they still didn't say anything as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Only when they reached the place where the corridor separated into two hallways did they stop. Akkarin turned to face Lorlen.

'See you tomorrow' he said simply.

'See you...' Lorlen answered, watching Akkarin turn away and head to the right. 'And...' Lorlen didn't know why he suddenly felt so shy. Maybe it was because the person he thought to be so malicious had helped him for the second time within 24 hours?

Akkarin turned back once more.

'...Thanks.'

'No problem' Akkarin smiled slightly. 'It's my pleasure, actually' the smile turned into a mischievous grin. 'You'd better read these books quickly'.

Lorlen sighed looking at Akkarin's figure moving further away into the corridor. He didn't know what to think about him. Maybe his annoying remarks were not as ill-willed as he thought before? Maybe he simply was like that? Annoying but generally likable? Lorlen shook his head slightly as he took the way to the left. He reached his room and slipped inside, shoving his book bag to the floor carelessly. He sat heavily on the bed's rim and then simply let himself fall back with a thump. He stretched lazily, sprawling on the mattress. Another long and tiring day. He lay for a while longer but then heaved up. No matter if he had doubts about Akkarin or not, it would be unwise not to take him seriously. He pulled his bag closer and took one of the Warrior books out. He leaned back on the bed and started reading.

------

The morning alchemy lab was a disaster. Lorlen didn't sleep much and couldn't concentrate on what he was doing with the test tubes. He read until late into the night – he was surprised how much Warrior techniques could be fascinating, once you went past all the boring, basic tricks. But it had its price. Right now he was washing his robes from the leftovers of his experiment. There would be some stains left for sure. He sighed and moved back to his desk where a helpless Mikkel was fighting with a mixture that kept boiling, bubbling and spilling out of its bowl. He clenched his teeth as he passed Akkarin's desk. He wished he could wash away that smirk from his face. Akkarin's experiment went perfectly and he was sitting now without anything to do, his arms crossed on his chest and watching others struggle. How did he manage that? He skipped the previous theory class, didn't he?

Lorlen gritted his teeth again. He helped Mikkel take out some of the boiling liquid that was threatening to spill again and started measuring the right amount of antagonistic substance. Just as he was to pour it into the bowl, Lord Tral announced the class over. Lorlen and Mikkel sighed in relief unanimously. They stuffed all the dirty bowls and tubes neatly into one pile – hoping that their teacher won't notice them being dirty – and escaped the room as quickly as possible. They sped up the corridor and slowed down only once they reached the nearest flight of stairs. Their next class was a Healing lecture.

'Gosh!' Mikkel stopped, half-way through a step. 'I forgot my Healing notes!'

Lorlen shrugged. 'You can use mine...'

'Yeah, unless that witch makes another entry test and we'll have to sit separately... ' Mikkel whined. 'I'll better go and fetch them; I'll see you in class.' He turned back and run down a few steps a time.

Lorlen sighed and started climbing up slowly. He still had almost fifteen minutes left to wander around. He reached the second floor and decided to take the longer way through another staircase. He walked through the empty hall – it was the offices floor and there were no students roaming about – and was just about to take a turn to the left, when he heard a door being opened somewhere around the corner.

'...they might really prove to be problematic. If we don't take measures now, the situation might get out of control' a voice reached him. It was Lord Jerrik, the Director. Lorlen did never like him and started loathing him after he had learned about his radical opinion on his and Akkarin's punishment. Besides, he was generally snappish and difficult to please. Lorlen had no intention of meeting him right now, so he simply stepped back to let Lord Jerrik and the person he was talking to go by, staying himself unnoticed.

'It is true. But let's not assume it will go that way.'

Lorlen twitched, surprised. It was the Administrator speaking. He could hear him clearly as they had just passed the corridor opening that he was hiding in.

'They are still Novices and nothing is decided yet. I will talk to the Higher Magicians – let me assure you, we will take adequate steps to deal with the matter' the Administrator finished authoritatively.

Lorlen's heart started pounding wildly. He had no intention to eavesdrop but he couldn't help hearing them talk. Problematic Novices? Adequate steps? Could it be they were talking about him and Akkarin? He was instantly reminded of their sneaking into the library yesterday, that only added to the list of their wrong doing. He heard a satisfied grunt from Lord Jerrik and then their steps faded away. Did they somehow learn about it already? That seemed impossible. Should he tell Akkarin about it? Probably yes, he had the right to know. Besides, as weird as it felt to acknowledge that, it was always better to have somebody to face the bad news with, even if that person was Akkarin.

He decided to go back and take the shorter way to the lecture hall. He didn't have much time left. He met with Mikkel – who was leafing through his notes nervously – on the way up.

'Where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere...' the Elyne complained. 'Do you remember what was the correct way to deal with lung infections in the preliminary stage? I remember it being talked about but I can't find it in my notes...'

'Direct intervention.'

'Geez, thanks' Mikkel looked at him with a smile and then frowned. 'What's up with you? You seem down?' The Elyne was always quick at noticing these things.

'Nothing, I didn't sleep well...' Lorlen didn't think Mikkel was the right person to share this particular problem with. He felt Mikkel's gaze for another while but then the other boy just sighed and turned back to his notes.

'Let's hope we won't have another test, I'm totally unprepared this time...'

'Me too' Lorlen joined his worries. It was a first for him – usually he repeated all the material for all of the Healing classes. He simply liked it. But surprisingly – even for himself – yesterday evening he was engrossed in reading about strikes. Well, he hoped his Healing knowledge was good enough even if he didn't prepare for class this time.

Fortunately, there was no entry test. Lorlen was thankful for it, as he found it again hard to concentrate during the lecture. Lady Alaya was an old lady and a very strict teacher but her knowledge was amazing and her talks were always interesting. However much he loved them, he could not focus this time. And it wasn't due to lack of sleep – he felt perfectly awake now, the Administrator words echoing in his head and making him more alert than a cold shower. He kept wondering what will happen to him and Akkarin and hoped against reason that it wasn't them they were talking about. Akkarin was sitting in the back, probably reading a book – as always on Healing classes – and so Lorlen couldn't even catch his gaze to give him a signal that he wanted to talk. It would have to wait.

The lecture took longer than usual and so they had no break before the Warrior Skills class. This one was as boring as always and Lorlen waited impatiently for it to end. It was the final one for today – tomorrow was Freeday, most Novices were leaving already this evening to spend the next day with their families and so there were no afternoon classes.

Lorlen was really grateful when Lord Balkan finally closed his book and let them go. He joined the rush towards the Food Hall. Even though he was still feeling nervous, his stomach was rumbling and he picked a full tray of dishes. He ate hastily, listening with half an ear to the gossips that rounded the table. He was just stuffing down a piece of cake as he noticed a familiar figure moving out through the main entrance. There was no time to lose – if he was to talk to Akkarin before the Freeday was over, he had to do it now.

Lorlen swallowed quickly, grabbed another piece of cake – for later – and rushed out of the Food Hall. He caught up with Akkarin as the other passed the fountain and headed towards the gardens. Since the weather was unusually nice for this season, most of the novices chose the longer way to the Quarters, just so that they could enjoy it.

Lorlen didn't know where to start and so for a while they walked in silence. Akkarin seemed not to take any notice of the fact that he had gained company. Finally, Lorlen decided to share the news. He had been itching to tell Akkarin about it for the whole day, but there had been no occasion for that. Besides, he didn't dare touch on the subject until there was no one to overhear them.

'I have heard Lord Jerrik talking to the Administrator about some problematic students' he started, squinting sideways at Akkarin. He didn't seem to pay any attention. 'By the sound of it, I gathered he must have been talking about us.'

As he again did not get any reply, he looked Akkarin straight into the face. The other simply shrugged his shoulders, as if this was nothing to be bothered with.

'They have been talking about taking measures to deal with the situation... I'm afraid this means trouble for us both.' Lorlen continued hoping to stir some reaction from his companion. No effect.

'I guess you won't be bothered if they finally throw you out' he finished coldly. 'You don't seem to care'.

Akkarin sighed. 'Well, I suppose they are right.'

Lorlen shook his head in surprise, not sure if he understood right. 'Right?! You mean they should expel us?!'

Akkarin let out a short burst of laughter and looked at him.

'Right in that we are indeed problematic for them' he answered the question in Lorlen's eyes. 'But we would be far a greater problem out of the Guild than we are within it. So I wouldn't worry' he finished and continued walking in silence. Lorlen waited for him to say something more, but apparently Akkarin thought he had explained everything.

'Why do you think we are a problem for them?' Lorlen started again after he was sure he was not going to get anything more without asking.

Akkarin stopped to face him, scanning Lorlen's face as if he tried to read it like a book.

'Well, I suppose they haven't seen a powerful magician for quite a time. Probably never' he said after a while, starting to walk again.

'What do you mean by that?' Lorlen didn't hide his surprise. 'They are powerful magicians themselves, for one. And you wouldn't surely tell me Balkan is not a powerful magician'.

Akkarin bent his head slightly, looking inquisitively at Lorlen again, his intense stare making Lorlen feel awkward.

'You don't know anything about magic, do you?' he finally stated more than asked. He shook his head as if in disbelief and started walking again. Lorlen felt his insides boiling, as it seemed a custom when he talked with Akkarin. Why wouldn't that dumbass finally say what he had on his mind instead of playing silly games with words?

'No I don't' he almost shouted at Akkarin. 'How would I for heaven's sake? I always thought I would become a City Guard, my father wanted me to own a plantation of pachi trees and my mother insisted I become an artist! Why would I bother with some godforsaken magic?!'

Akkarin laughed out loud. Lorlen felt his hands clutching into fists in anger. He breathed out heavily trying to calm himself down.

'A City Guard?' Akkarin asked still laughing. 'You're joking, right?'

He looked at Lorlen and his face instantly became serious. 'No, you're not' he answered his own question. He glanced at Lorlen apologetically. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at your ambitions, it just seemed so... out of place. But you're of House Levlen, right?' he asked but then continued without waiting for an answer. 'Now, that explains it. You probably never considered becoming a magician... Isn't it ironic?' he laughed shortly, shaking his head again.

'You will need some serious catching up on the meta theory' he continued looking up at Lorlen, the corner of his lip curling into a mysterious smile. 'Well, I can help you with that' he finished, smiling and winking at him.

Lorlen took a deep breath, coming to grips with his anger. What on earth was this guy talking about? 'Why don't you start with explaining me why the hell we are considered a problem in the Guild?' he asked harshly.

'Well, maybe more of a challenge than a problem' Akkarin started slowly. 'You see, Lord Balkan may indeed seem powerful when compared to others – that's probably why he was given his position so early – but the Guild has seen far more powerful magicians in the past. My grand-grand-grand-father, for example, was said to be one of the greatest alchemists in the Guild's history. I have read his diaries as a child and believe me, the things he was able to do simply can't be put in the same line with what is being done nowadays.' Akkarin stressed his words with a slight shake of the head and then continued.

'Take another example – Lord Loren – you must have heard about him, as half of Immardin has been built according to his findings about magical architecture. And they both were not only more inventive – they simply had more power to use. Today, the Guild is more a school and a hospital than anything else. And that's mostly because there haven't been any really strong magicians for at least two generations. The teaching programme has been tailored to suit that as well. It produces average magicians one after another. And that is why we caused such a disruption.'

He looked Lorlen straight in the eyes.

'They simply weren't prepared for it; they had let us develop by ourselves and it has got out of control. Yesterday's class in the Arena was yet another proof of that. Have you noticed Balkan's apprehension? He was probably mentally slapping himself in the face for wasting the past month on us cleaning the University instead of making sure we learn what we should before we blow the place up.'

He laughed shortly, looking at Lorlen's stunned face.

'We probably should have had individual courses of studies from the very beginning, now they finally acknowledged that and need to fix it. Which I would be quite satisfied with, I have to admit' his face brightened. 'I'd love to get more access to the libraries to begin with. What we have touched on is just a tip of the iceberg. There must be immeasurable amounts of knowledge there, with a few real gems hidden here and there. And it's being wasted' he shook his head with resentment.

'Wait, wait...' Lorlen interrupted his line of thought. 'You're not telling me we are going to become another two Lord Lorens?'

Akkarin looked at him mischievously, his lip curled into a smile again.

'Well, it depends if you're interested in architecture. I, for one, prefer other things.' He laughed out noticing the disbelief in Lorlen's eyes.

'Seriously, I don't want to make any comparisons; it is very difficult anyway to compare the strengths of two magicians, even having them both at hand, alive. Still, it is clear to me that we will both surpass any given person in the Guild. Not yet, mind it, but in the future.'

'How come you can predict that?...' Lorlen was still unconvinced.

'By the speed at which our powers develop. You see, you don't get all of your power at the beginning. It sort of grows with you and with your experience of using it. That's why they only check older kids for its existence. And...' he looked Lorlen straight in the eyes. '...we weren't supposed to master control so quickly. One day? Usually it takes a few weeks! Power strikes? There's a reason why you don't teach them until the end of semester. By every standard, we shouldn't be able to do all that. It simply doesn't happen normally. And it took us less than two months to learn it all. Imagine – we still have over four years of studying left' he grinned. 'Just think where we might get in that amount of time. Obviously, a student with such a power would be a challenge for the teachers. ' he looked at Lorlen again, winking. 'And two? Both at the same semester? Well, I can clearly see how it could cause poor Lord Jerrik a headache.'

Lorlen looked at him, still in shock. Of course, Akkarin's words were reassuring – if he was right there was no real trouble ahead. But somehow he could not believe in himself being so powerful. True, Akkarin was not a person that would boast about his talents if they weren't a fact, but how could Lorlen belong to the same league? There were no powerful magicians in his House, were there?

'I guess you have to put your other ambitions aside, Lorlen. Let's face it – whether your family likes it or not, you will become a powerful magician' Akkarin broke into his thoughts, as if reading Lorlen's mind. They reached the Novice's Quarters and stopped in front of them – there were already many carts waiting for the young magicians to pick them up for the Freeday.

'No need to worry, though. It can't be that bad' Akkarin's lips curled into his trademark, mysterious smile. 'Besides, you're not alone in this mess. Have a nice Freeday, Lorlen.'

---

**That's it for now. In the next chapters (when I manage to get down to writing them...): Akkarin & Lorlen team up for good – to the detriment of their teachers; and our good friend Walin makes a comeback, which leaves poor Lorlen a bit torn. Stay tuned!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Yes, it's been long... really long. And no, it's not a real update. In fact, I have decided to abandon this story, because... well, I'm simply lazy and there's not been enough interest to make me fight it. And I have already forgotten what the story was all about. But I found those little pieces of text that I wrote in advance for future chapters and thought it a waste to leave them on my comp. So I wrote a few filling parts so that they become readible in the context, and voila. First part of the leftovers - where Lorlen takes the fast lane on the road to maturity. The next, when and if it comes, will be on his becoming a healer. Obviously, all this happens after some time delay from the previos part - at least one chapter would fit in between, but well, don't count on that. **

Lorlen tensed as he prepared his shield for the strike. A trickle of sweat ran down from his eyebrow, tickling him, but he didn't dare wipe it away. He kept his undivided focus on the figure at the far end of the Arena field. Akkarin was crouched slightly, keeping balance on the balls of his feet. Lorlen saw him move slightly to the right and instinctively strengthened the shield on his left side, loosening it on the right. A gamble. But he was right again. A strong blow almost made him stagger, and his shield tinkled dangerously. If he hadn't strengthened it, it would have shattered. He saw Akkarin dash to the side and bend down to avoid a strike he didn't even register sending. He let his instincts take over and lost himself in the blur of strikes and quick moves.

His senses came back as he caught his breath at the other side of the Arena. He kept his gaze locked with Akkarin's, even as the dust roused by their strikes fogged his view. He watched his friend swaying slightly, balancing on bent knees, almost exactly mirroring his own moves. Like two predators. Always ready. Always waiting. It was this curious rhythm they shared, the rhythm of the fight. He knew he could get addicted to it if he let himself. But somewhere inside he knew he would ultimately lose. Either to his opponent or to his own lack of control.

He was dimly aware of spectators. Other novices must have already completed a whole series of duels and those most exhausted would try to skip next rounds, watching them fight instead. A single fight that rarely saw an end before the class finished. Somewhere there was their teacher, too. Lorlen almost wished he would call it quits already. He refocused when Akkarin took a step back, and tensed again. Another drop of sweat was rolling down his cheek when he felt rather than saw Akkarin loosening a blow. A blast of a fire strike hit the place where he was a nanosecond ago. He lost track of reality again.

He resurfaced when they changed sides again. Akkarin smiled. He always smiled his annoying smile, visibly enjoying not only the victories but the fight and the tension itself. That was where they differed. Lorlen craved to win from the very start to the very end but he hated everything in between. He hated the strain, the waiting, the uncertainty. And he hated the knowledge that it was what made him weaker. And so he strived and strived to prove himself wrong but in truth he'd rather lose than endure the tension – if only that was an option. But that was training, right? They were meant to fight; there was no walking away from it. So they continued this unstoppable rivalry that seemed to seep into everything they did together. Akkarin loved it. Lorlen hated it. He knew Akkarin was as dependable as a friend could be if the need arose, but he wished Akkarin could sometimes simply let go of his ambition. He wished he himself would sometimes let go…

He sent a strike without thinking. He aimed somewhere in front of Akkarin's feet, effectively clouding his opponent from his view. He dashed along the Arena's curve sending strikes down and up, right and left, not letting his gaze wander off of the place where Akkarin should be. He was almost sure he managed to confuse him, but as he send a series of strong power strikes to finish off his attack, a loud ringing filled his ears. It was some time before he could stop himself and the energy flying from his hands. When he did, he felt dazed by the sudden break, almost dizzy. He realized his strikes were hitting a shield wall that separated him from the other half of the arena. That's it then - again.

He let all his breath out just as the dust finally settled and his teacher's voice could be heard.

'Time's up. You can finish this next time.' Lord Balkan stated simply but he waited for some time still until he released the magic wall that separated the fighters. As if he wasn't sure if they wouldn't start striking again as soon as the barrier was up. Lorlen shook his head in disbelief. Did they look that vicious when fighting? He hoped not. He sighed when Balkan released the inner shields he had put on them under their own, and turned towards the edge where there were lockers for their school cases. As he retrieved his things he sighed again with relief. Once more he managed to finish undefeated. Next time he might not have that much luck. And that was the last warrior class for this week and that meant a few days break. More luck. Then again, the next week was the last in the semester and the summer break was just looming over on the horizon. Even more luck.

"He did it again," an annoyed voice cut into his thoughts. 'He does it every time things start to get interesting.' Akkarin was picking up his bag from the locker just to the right. 'How annoying.' He complained further, anger twitching his features.

Lorlen looked away, suddenly ashamed of the relief he was feeling. Maybe he should be more competitive? Maybe he was just lazy? He shrugged to cover it all. 'Does it matter? There will be next time…'

'Yeah, but we will need to warm up again and when we do, he will put the barrier on again…' Akkarin threw his bag over his arm as they started to make way towards the Novice Quarters. 'Hey, how about we rent the Arena for private practice?' he looked at Lorlen, brightening up visibly, 'We could train as long as we want, we'd just need some supervisor' he continued. 'That's doable' he kept on thinking out loud, 'I have some connections, it might just work.' He turned to face Lorlen. 'What do you say?'

'I don't know…' Lorlen replied hesitantly, avoiding Akkarin's gaze. 'The semester is just about to end…'

'Exactly!' Akkarin seemed set on the idea, 'we should arrange it quickly. After the summer break we will need some time to get back on form, so we'd better do it right now.'

'There are the semester exams coming up though…' Lorlen tried meekly. 'We need to prepare…'

'If we split the readings, we might do that twice as fast as normally. It should be no problem at all'.

Lorlen only sighed. That was how his good luck ended. He couldn't simply tell Akkarin that he didn't like to spar with him, could he? That he didn't like fighting at all? That he feared he would lose time after time?

'What are you planning for summer break, then?' he asked, trying to change the subject.

'Summer break?' Akkarin asked, side-tracked. 'Ah, summer break… Actually, I was thinking about it too…" he looked at Lorlen intently. 'Usually, we go to our summer mansion by the sea. Have you ever been to the sea, Lorlen? The real one, I mean, not this dirty estuary.'

Lorlen returned the look hesitantly. 'No, I haven't… actually,' he started, blushing slightly, 'I can't even swim properly…'

'Great. You'll learn something new, then' Akkarin smiled mischievously interrupting him. 'I wanted to invite you to join me during the summer break. I've already talked with my parents and they are thrilled to be able to finally meet the novice I talk about so much…'

'But…' Lorlen opened his mouth wide. 'Actually…' he tried again. He could feel his cheeks turn bright red.

'Hmm?' Akkarin looked at him questioningly. 'Don't worry, I will go easy on you with the swimming lessons' he winked meaningfully.

'No, that's not it…' Lorlen strived to find the proper words. 'I mean…' He finally looked up to face his friend. 'I have already planned my summer break…' he lowered his gaze again, angry at himself that he couldn't handle it more diplomatically.

'Maybe you can split the time, then?' Akkarin insisted, watching him carefully.

'I can't,' Lorlen said looking at the ground. 'We're going to Elyne… My father's already set on it. And the travel itself will take long…'

'Well, maybe we can talk him out of it then?' Akkarin asked thoughtfully, trying to catch Lorlen's gaze.

'No, don't…' Lorlen started again. 'That is, I don't really want to… I mean, I want to go to Elyne.' He finally met Akkarin's eyes. 'We're visiting the family of my best friend. They moved out of Kyralia and I haven't seen him for a year almost…' he set his eyes down again. Akkarin stayed silent for some time.

'I understand' he finally responded. Lorlen looked up hopefully, only to catch a glimpse of hurt in his friend's eyes. But it passed quickly and Akkarin's face became unreadable. "Well, I hope you have a good time with your friend. We can go to the sea next time'.

'Yes, of course!' Lorlen said hurriedly, trying to cover his uneasiness. 'Definitely. We'll plan that in advance for when the next break comes. For now, let's arrange our training in the Arena!'

xxxxx

The afternoon was scorching hot. Lorlen leaned over the fountain railing, dangerously close to losing his balance, and swept the scarf across the surface of the water, managing to wet it slightly. He wiped his forehead and sighed with relief. He let himself slide down against the fountain wall and sat on its marble steps. He caught some curious glances sweeping over his brown novice robes and probably noting his rather unseemly posture, but he didn't care. The Elyne seemed overly respectful towards magicians, even those in training. Sometimes he wished he didn't have to wear the robes all the time. If it wasn't for his father he would probably let them go the first day of his stay at Walin's but somehow his parent was adamant this time. Back in Immardin, he never seemed interested in Lorlen's status as a magician, dismissing it without even noticing. Here, however, it was something he obviously took pride in and Lorlen didn't have it in him to oppose. It left him feeling awkward and pressed to behave older than he felt when strangers greeted him with almost reverence while completely ignoring Walin… He wished he could have his friend's freedom to act his age. Right now however, he didn't care in the slightest what people thought. He let both the stares and the overall noise flow by, enjoying the moment of respite.

The crowd in the square was intriguingly mixed. There were some carriages slowly pushing through with exquisitely dressed gentry looking out through half open windows. Mere yards beside a stoutly built vendor advertised her pastry in the most piercing voice Lorlen has ever been made to endure. In a nearby corner a small crowd – composed of seemingly all social strata – gathered around a group of pantomime players. Among them a couple of flashily self-assured individuals engaged others into lively commentary. Lorlen wondered how anybody could fail to notice their true role – they were obviously thieves, making it easier for their companions to sneak around and pull out fat purses from the watchers' belts. Maybe even the actors were collaborating? Lorlen tried to pick out the actual perpetrators but either they were too sneaky or he was not smart enough to single them out of the rest of the audience. He noticed a wealthy garbed kid of maybe ten years excitedly pushing through to get a better view of the play and instantly become the centre of attention of one of the commentators. He watched the scene unveil, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have it in him to counteract. Even though the place – and the whole of the city, actually – was tiresome in its colourful and noisy presence, he knew he would miss it back home. There was something inherently relaxing in Elynes' seemingly pretentious style of life that the Kyralians lacked. He hoped he could keep a piece of that in his heart when he boarded the ship home tomorrow.

A pat on the shoulder woke him up from his musings.

'Hey, try these! They are the best in the whole country!' Walin squeezed something into his hand. Lorlen looked suspiciously at the grease leaking, paper wrapped package and then at his friend, stuffing something into his mouth.

'Don't be silly, it only looks awful' Walin obviously guessed at the reason of his reluctance. 'It's a deep fried pachi fruit in an almond flavoured pastry. Delicious! I won't let you leave without tasting one of these.'

Lorlen unwrapped the cookie carefully, trying not to stain his robes and took a bite. A flood of sweet syrup burst out making all his efforts futile, but, yes, it was delicious.

'Always eat them whole' Walin said laughing, 'unless you want to get all sticky.'

'Thanks for an advance warning' Lorlen replied, scowling. He was about to get up to try and wash some of the juice away with the scarf when a sudden commotion grabbed their attention.

'Thief! He stole my bracelet!' It was the kid Lorlen noticed earlier, crying out loud and tugging at the hem of an older woman's garment. Before anybody could react, the woman, probably a governess, snapped out with her umbrella, with a speed that Lorlen would not suspect of her. She hit a retreating figure under a knee, making them stagger and fall to all fours among a widening circle within the crowd.

'Guards!' she shouted. But before anyone had a chance to help her, a thin needle of steel caught light as it dug into her chest. Lorlen jumped up in horror. He saw her stutter in shock and grab the front of her dress trying in vain to gasp for breath. She fell down slowly, disbelief filling her gaze.

'Nobody move!' A thin voice, barely audible over the noise in the square made everybody snap out of the stupor. A lean figure stood among the now empty circle, holding the boy. He couldn't have been much older than the victim, still a kid himself. Yet there was a long, bloodied knife in his hand and even as it shook slightly, a thin, red line appeared at his victim's neck where it pressed into the skin. His ragged clothes stood in vivid contrast to the other boy's attire; he looked the worst of the thieves' lot. The others were nowhere to be seen, leaving him to handle the mess he stepped into. The first line of onlookers watched him warily trying to retreat slowly while others pushed in from the back, unable to clearly see the two small figures obscured by the crowd in front.

'Barik!' A man's voice exclaimed, breaking the silence. A stout figure pushed through the first line of watchers, making the young criminal turn the victim in his direction. 'Leave my child alone, you filth!...' The man stopped dead when he noticed the boys, the knife and the blood on the child's neck and finally the body lying at their feet. 'Barik… Marina…' the man stuttered looking at his son, than the woman and the boys again. His shock was palpable.

'Don't move!' the thief repeated, this time stronger. He started to retreat, but he had nowhere to go. From their position on the steps of the fountain, Lorlen could clearly see that there was no way out. There were guards coming from behind even now, alerted by the commotion. Taking his eyes away from the action Lorlen noticed with disbelief that most of the people on the square haven't yet noticed what had happened. Only the group of pantomime watchers a yard away from him was aware of the gravity of the situation. Yet, it spread. Lorlen could feel more than see a ripple slowly passing through the crowd in the square. More and more eyes were turning into the right direction, even if yet blind to the nature of the ongoing tragedy. Another pair of guards turned and started to make their way towards the turmoil.

Those the young thief could see. Lorlen saw desperation paint his face. Any moment now they will step through the crowd and the impasse would break. Only seconds were left until the thief would have to make a decision…

Everything seemed to happen at once. The taller guard pushed through the first line of the onlookers, the father screamed something inarticulate, Barik squealed and the knife dropped down, hitting the cobblestones with a metallic rasp. For Lorlen, it seemed to last painfully long. Even as the power left his fingertips seconds ago, he had already regretted the strike. Yet, there was no way to take it back. Even as it still flew to its target, it was unstoppable. It was simple, too simple. A power strike that didn't take much of his energy and didn't require most any concentration. A well learned, simple reaction that would be laughable in any of the duels he had with Akkarin in their warrior classes. Here, it brought inevitability. Lorlen knew there was no way it could miss.

He watched as if in slow motion as the strike hit the thief from the side, barely touching his victim, yet destroying the thief's arm and half his head. The older boy fell down, letting his victim stagger just as the guards entered the circle. There was a sudden rush, as if everybody has suddenly let out the air they were holding and started to move at the same moment. Lorlen saw it all but it didn't seem to truly reach him. Everything became distant, as if dimmed by a thick veil of fog. There were people cheering in the crowd, somebody patted him on the shoulder, somebody shouted thanks to the Guild. He could hardly hear and feel any of that. Then somebody grabbed him forcefully but he couldn't even think about opposing the force. He felt his ribs being squeezed painfully as a man hugged him tightly. He felt something wet on his neck and then looked into a face full of tears. The man gave a hysterical laughter, wiping away his tears and then hugging him again, whispering a litany of thanks. Lorlen realized belatedly that it must have been the father of the saved victim. His brain seemed unable to work properly, registering everything but letting it slip his consciousness. Nothing made any difference to him anymore.

All he could see was the thief's body and all he could be aware of were the laments of a woman that pushed in from the crowd and crouched above it, pulling the lifeless form into her embrace and cradling it as if it was an infant. She pressed her face to the boy's chest and showered it with lithe kisses, not paying any attention to the blood that smeared on her face, mixing with the tears and flowing down her neck in dirty streaks. Lorlen felt numbness welling all over his body. Was this really happening? How could this happen? It was impossible. Nothing like this could ever happen. This moment had to be some passing nightmare.

Yet, he knew it was real. There was nothing he could do to turn it back. It will remain a fact, no matter how much he would deny it, how much he would like to wipe it away from his memory. He would remember it forever. The motionless figure slouched on the blood-covered cobblestones, the pain and despair etched on the woman's face, the way the crowd obscured his view from time to time, moving forward and not giving any heed to the tragedy that played within it. And the numbness that was inside him. Nothing could take it away.

His eyes were fixed on the two figures ahead and he strained not to lose them from his sight as various people came in front of him. They were shaking his hand, patting him on the back, or simply congratulating him. He felt somebody tugging on his hand and felt being pulled away but still tried to keep his gaze on the boy and his mother. As if he hoped that it could change something. That by the force of his eyes alone he could give back the boy's life that he had just taken away. But it didn't happen. Instead, as he was dragged away by somebody, his gaze locked for a short moment with the woman's. There was only hatred in her eyes, even as a guard came from behind, grabbing and pulling her up. Even so, Lorlen couldn't force his own eyes away. He tried to put away the terror that filled him and fill his gaze with a wordless apology. But even as he failed at this, he already knew it was pointless anyway. There were no apologies that could wash away his guilt. He hopelessly held the woman's glare until he lost her from his sight.

'Wow, so you've made it into the hero of the day…' a shaky voice interrupted his misery. He turned to see who dragged him away from the crowds into a backstreet. Walin. It was Walin, although Lorlen could hardly recognize his voice, his face and the touch of his hand that held him by the shoulder. He looked down at the fingers interlaced with the fabric of his robes. It felt surreal. How could anybody behave so normally, so regularly as if nothing had happened? He looked up again and into the eyes of his friend. He felt numb.

'Lorlen…' Walin's worried face contorted as he traced his eyes over Lorlen's features. 'Lorlen' he repeated. 'I'm sorry… I'm so sorry this had to happen to you.' He pulled him into an embrace, holding him tightly.

Lorlen's body was so stiff he felt he would snap if Walin pulled him any closer. But slowly he could feel life coming back to him, the sounds around them becoming clearer and the warmth of Walin's hand massaging his back more real. His muscles relaxed a bit and he let himself fall into the hug. He pulled his arms around Walin and rested his head on his shoulder. He wished he could cry but his eyes were dry. He straightened up finally, releasing himself from the embrace.

'I…' he started. 'I…' he just couldn't speak. His voice failed him and he couldn't find any words to describe what he felt. His hands started shaking and he pulled them away belatedly from Walin's waist.

'It's ok.' Walin caught his hands before Lorlen managed to hide them behind his back. 'It will all be fine. Let's go home now, ok?' he searched Lorlen's face for an answer, but then simply pulled him along, grabbing him by the waist and letting him lean on his shoulder.

xxxxx

Lorlen didn't remember how they got to Walin's family premises. Maybe they took a couch? Or maybe they walked all the way? The next thing that made it into his hazy mind was the sudden rush when they walked through the door. Lorlen started when the first thing he heard was the servant shouting 'They're here!' There was a commotion once the news was heard. Lorlen's brothers run out of the living room, followed by both his father and Walin's parents. Velia rushed towards them, and hugged both of them at once.

'Thanks heavens, you're back!' She pulled back to take them into sight. 'We were so worried when we heard about the turmoil at the main square. Where have you been?'

'We were just strolling around when all this happened.' Walin answered quickly. 'But Lorlen didn't feel well so we headed back, but it took us long to get here with him feeling sick and all...'

'Oh, Lorlen, what is it? Maybe we should call a Healer?'

'No, thanks' Lorlen replied meekly. 'I just need to lay down and rest' the words sounded as if they were spoken by somebody else; his outer shell was putting on an act but his inner self was still unable to face reality. He just hoped they would leave him alone.

'Are you sure?' his father looked at him suspiciously, putting a hand on his forehead. 'You don't have any fever, but maybe we'll have somebody check up on you.'

'I'll be fine, I just need a rest' he reassured again.

'I'll take him to his room' Walin offered hastily, already pulling Lorlen towards the stairs.

'Well, let it be, but if it doesn't get any better soon, please let me know, Lorlen. We have a long travel ahead, I won't let you go home sick' his father's hand patted Lorlen gently on the shoulder, but he hardly noticed the gesture.

xxxxx

Lorlen closed the door behind the last servant, turned to face his quarters and let himself slide down to the floor, next to all his luggage they brought in. He sat there for a long while thinking of nothing and hoping life would pass him by. Inadvertently, he put his hand into his pocket. He didn't want to, he really didn't want to go through it again, but something forced him to wrap his fingers around the cold piece of metal one more time. He pulled it out and turned it around in his fingers; then let it lay on the palm of his open hand. A medal. Of honour.

He could still feel the awkwardness that swept through him when the Elyne Royal Guard Officer and the Guild's Ambassador came to say their farewells in the docks. He remembered the suspicion in his father's eyes that quickly became surprise and then pride. The worry in Walin's. He could clearly hear in his head the words that were spoken – of the role of the Guild, of honour, pride and duty. Of rightful use of magic. He could still feel the numbness that filled him when he was made remember – did he even forget? – what had happened the day before. He seemed to still feel the weight of the piece of metal when it was attached to his robes, how it weighted him down, almost breaking him. It was now freed, lying in his hand but the burden didn't seem any lesser. He clenched his fingers into a fist, until the metal dug painfully into his hand. He stood up deciding to throw it out of the window – and all the hypocrisy with it – but then stopped after two steps. Walin's words came to him, back when they sat in his room in Elyne.

'_Remember this?' _he asked showing Lorlen the wolf-like necklace they had found as kids. It seemed to have happened in a previous life. _'Because I do… I remember our vow. It might seem silly, but it really means a lot to me. If anything as bad happens to you again, please remember that I still have this necklace… It reminds me of the good times. Please, remember them too.'_

Lorlen looked down at the medal again. It was ironic that what he was left with reminded him only of the worst thing that has happened to him… But would it be fair if he kept only good memories? He was sure he would never forget it, medal there or not, but if he did? Would that be good? He closed his fingers again. No. He would keep this medal, just in case he forgot. Because he shouldn't. Just as he shouldn't forget that he had a friend somewhere there, even if he was far away. He would carry this little burden – just to remember.


End file.
